


Out Through the Stars

by hapakitsune



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-15
Updated: 2008-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is a Speaker for the Dead. Space AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Through the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the concept of [Speaker for the Dead](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speaker_for_the_dead#Meaning_of_.22Speaker_for_the_Dead.22) from the novel _Ender's Game_. Knowledge of the book/universe is not necessary, but if you want to know a little more, check out the articles on [the Formics](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Formics) and [Ansibles](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ansible).

_The book that Ender wrote was not long, but in it was all the good and all the evil that the hive queen knew. And he signed it, not with his name, but with a title:_

  
_SPEAKER FOR THE DEAD_   


  
_On Earth, the book was published quietly, and quietly it was passed from hand to hand, until it was hard to believe that anyone on Earth might not have read it. Most who read it found it interesting; some who read it refused to set it aside. They began to live by it as best they could, and when their loved ones died, a believer would arise beside the grave to be the Speaker for the Dead, and say what the dead one would have said, but with full candor, hiding no faults and pretending no virtues. Those who came to such services sometimes found them painful and disturbing, but there were many who decided that their life was worthwhile enough, despite their errors, that when they died a Speaker should tell the truth for them._   


  
****

**Prologue**

When Ryan arrives, Frank meets him, ready to see a new face. He's surprised more than he should by the fact that Ryan looks barely older than he had the last time Frank had seen him. Jon, Spencer, and Brendon are flanking him, as usual. In the face of such youth, Frank abruptly feels older than he has in a long time. He dismisses the feeling and instead steps forward to greet them. 

"Thank you for coming," Frank says earnestly, taking Ryan's hand and squeezing it. "I know Gerard would have wanted this." 

"Of course," Ryan says, his flat voice somehow sad. "I'm flattered that you asked for me. And you don't need to thank me. I'd do anything for Gerard. Surely you know that." 

"I know," Frank admits, "but I'm still glad you came." 

 

**Part One**   
**Vega**

The call comes in by ansible five weeks after they've left Chicago. Mikey reads the message carefully and yells for Gerard. 

Gerard's never been able to sleep while traveling. He doesn't know why, but being on a spaceship seems to give him insomnia. Sleep in general has become elusive. He barely sleeps while he's researching for a Speaking, and then ends up having to stay a couple days extra on the planet while he catches up. 

He thinks it's just because he always feels like he has things to do, things to check up on. By the time Mikey hollers his name, he's already yanking open the curtains to his bunk before Mikey's finished with the second 'r'. He stumbles from his bunk, squinting sleepily in the harsh yellow cabin lights. 

"What is it?" 

"Request from Vega." Mikey stabs a finger at the computer console. "George Ryan Ross III requests a Speaker for the Dead for his father." 

Gerard blinks in recognition at the name. "George Ryan Ross the writer?" 

"I guess?" Mikey recalibrates the ship's coordinates. "It says to send a message when we're close and he'll have someone meet us. We're about three hours away our time, about two weeks theirs." 

"I'll go tell the others," Gerard says. 

 

The only other Speaker Gerard has ever met is Pete Wentz, whose story is pretty typical, from what Gerard has heard. When Pete was sixteen, his friend Chris died and the family had called for a Speaker. 

The Speaker's name had been Andrew Wiggin, and he was the best, from all the reports Gerard has read. He'd spent a few weeks in Wilmette, talking to people who'd known Chris, getting a clearer picture of him. And at the speaking, he'd shared Chris's life. 

Some of the things he'd said hurt, but they hurt in the way that the truth hurts, because that's what Speaking is. It's telling the pure truth of someone's lives, with no gloss and no embellishments. 

Pete had known immediately that he wanted to be a Speaker.  
  
  
It used to be just Mikey and Gerard on The Black Parade. Ray joined them within a few months, meeting up with them when Gerard did a Speaking on Angeles, but Frank only joined in Chicago, and Gerard still doesn't know what to make of him. 

Frank is quiet aboard the ship, though Gerard has seen him be quite loud in the past. He suspects that Frank's vaguely terrified of him and his earnestness. Gerard feels a little hesitant about waking him up, so he pokes Ray first instead. 

"What?" demands Ray, cracking an eye open irritably. 

"I got called to a Speaking on Vega," he whispers. Ray grumbles incoherently. "Come on, Ray. Vega. Planet of gambling and girls." 

"Whatever. Let me go back to fucking sleep." Ray swats him away, and Gerard backs off. He goes to Frank's bunk and kneels down by the sleeping figure. 

Gerard still isn't sure how he feels about Frank; for him, memories of Bert are still fresh. The thing about Frank is that he's very young, both in terms of relative age and actual birth date. Gerard has seen so much more than him and sometimes Frank makes him feel older than he is. Frank is beautiful, though, even in the harsh lights of their ship, and Gerard is beginning to think that taking him onboard was a bad idea, because when Frank smiles, his heart stops in his chest. 

He gently shakes Frank's shoulder and whispers, "Hey. Hey, Frank."

"Mmph?" 

"We're going to Vega. I got called for a Speaking." 

"M'kay." Frank wuffles softly and then turns over onto his side. "Wake me up when we get there, then." 

"Deal." Gerard stands and stares at Frank's small shape for a long moment before going to rejoin Mikey at the front of the 'ship.

 

They land on Vega a little more than three hours later, having sent a message when they were ten minutes away. When they land, the other two have woken up and gathered their things, and are waiting blearily by the hatch. When it opens, they are greeted by four young men - boys, really - standing in a line. 

The skinniest one, a pretty boy wearing elaborate swirls of makeup and a pink scarf, steps forward and holds out his hand. "Ryan Ross. Are you the Speaker?" 

Gerard hitches his bag higher on his shoulder and smiles. "Yes, I'm Gerard Way." He shakes Ryan's hand. "These are my companions, Ray, Mikey, and Frank." He maybe hesitates a little before Frank's name, but that's only because he's never had to introduce Frank to anyone. 

Ryan gestures to the other boys. "Brendon, Jon, Spencer." He steps away slowly. "You can stay with me if you want." 

"I'd prefer to stay somewhere away from people who knew your father, if that's all right." Gerard drums his fingers restlessly on the strap of his bag. 

"I just moved here," the one called Jon volunteers. "I didn't know Mr. Ross that well, or really at all." 

Gerard is a little confused by this tidbit of information, but he lets it go. "That sounds fine," Gerard says. "We'll need to stay for a few weeks, probably." 

Jon shrugs. "I'm moving houses in two months, but as long as you don't stay longer than that –"

Gerard shakes his head. "I wouldn't dream of imposing upon your hospitality for that long." 

"It's not a problem," Ryan says firmly. "I am grateful for your presence. If you need anything from any of us, just let me know." 

Gerard nods, and jerks his head at Mikey. "We'll get settled in. Perhaps dinner tonight?" 

"Sure," says Ryan. He's very good at hiding his emotions, but Gerard's looking for it – the slight shakiness of his hands, the tight press of lips, the shininess of the eyes. "I'll pick you guys up at seven." 

"Come on," Jon says, "I'll drive you to my place." He smiles, and his smile is so genuinely _nice_ that Gerard relaxes just a little. 

The first meeting with the family is always the hardest –Gerard knows this, and yet every time he's taken by surprise. It's completely understandable; they just lost a family member, a friend, and they called in a Speaker for the Dead – and if they called one in, it means they don't have one of their own, and have probably never heard a Speaking before. And if they have heard a Speaking, they're probably even more apprehensive. 

Sometimes the truths revealed at a Speaking are too much to handle. Sometimes they hit too close, expose secrets and lies hidden for years and years. Sometimes they change things permanently, and sometimes they destroy lives. 

 

  
**Jersey**

Gerard was the one to put in the call, because Mikey couldn't bring himself to do it. He sent out a message by ansible for the nearest Speaker, and they received a message back saying that he'd be there in a month. 

It was the longest month of Gerard's life, as they prepared the funeral and he comforted his mother. He moved about as if in a dream, unable to believe what had happened. Mikey was no better, his eyes red from weeping and his voice hoarse when he could bring himself to speak. Gerard asked Ray to lock up all the liquor somewhere they wouldn't find it. 

When he received word that the Speaker was close, he went with Mikey to the station and waited while they landed. The Speaker that came off was not exactly what he had imagined, but he'd take it. 

The Speaker was short and dark and had three companions flanking him. He looked as though he would normally be smiling, but instead he nodded seriously. 

"Hi," he said. "I'm Pete. This is Joe, Andy, and Patrick. Do you know of any jobs they could have while we're here?" 

 

  
They got settled in a hotel not far from where Gerard and Mikey lived. Pete's friends found jobs, and Pete started researching Elena. 

The first thing Pete ever said directly to Gerard was, "No one ever told me that the boys in Jersey were beautiful." 

Gerard blinked at him, and followed his gaze to where Mikey was accepting flowers from a neighbor. Mikey was dwarfed by the huge floral arrangement. Gerard wanted to get up and help, but he could feel Pete's eyes on him, evaluating his every move. 

"Thank you," he said finally, and Pete nodded slowly. 

"You're welcome," he answered. Gerard turned back and their eyes locked for a long, tense moment. 

 

**Vega**

Jon's house is – comfortable. That's the only word Gerard can think to describe it, because it's not really all that unusual or interesting. It has wooden floors and white walls and there's a cat padding around shedding hair. It makes Gerard miss his old hamster, the hamster Elena got him a few months before she died. Gerard had left Liza behind with his mom, because he couldn't exactly take her with him. He misses having a pet to talk to, though, and he's more than a little envious of Jon. 

He shares a room with Mikey, who unpacks their few belongings while Gerard goes to talk to Jon. The others will find temp jobs in the main city – they always do – but Gerard's job starts here, looking for answers from Jon Walker. 

Jon is cleaning the kitchen counters when Gerard comes in, the grey cat padding in after him. Jon smiles at the cat and reaches up to grab a box of cat food. As he does, he asks over his shoulder, "Did you need something?" 

"I wanted to talk to you about Ryan's dad." Gerard grabs a chair and sits on it, fixing Jon with his most penetrating stare. "I need to know him from all angles for the speaking." 

"Oh! I understand that, yeah." Jon rubs the back of his neck. "I – I'm from Chicago. I went to a couple Speakings there, I know how it goes." 

"Well. Okay." Gerard blinks at him. "You're from Chicago?" 

"That's – the story of how I got here? That's part of my, that's how I know – _knew_ – Mr. Ross. Um." Jon is flushing slightly, the very tops of his cheeks pink. "I'm, uh. I'm a mail-order husband?" 

Gerard stares at him for a long moment, at the soft curve of Jon's eyelashes and the way Jon's fingers are unconsciously carding through his cat's fur, and then he says, "All right." 

This seems to soothe Jon a little, because he smiles slightly and stops fidgeting. "I, um. I lived with my granddad and when he died I was kind of left without anywhere to go. I didn't exactly have money, so –" Jon shakes his head. "I knew this guy. My best friend was dating him, right? But this guy, _his_ friend runs this business from York, and so I sent in my name and address and a profile about me. I guess Mr. Ross thought I'd be good for Ryan." Jon is flushing darker now. 

"What were your impressions of Mr. Ross?" Gerard asks gently, pitching his words soft and soothing. Jon breathes deeper and meets Gerard's eyes, finally. 

"He – he really loved Ryan, you know? He just didn't always understand him. I think he was confused by Ryan. It's not hard – Ryan's confusing." Jon's a little breathless now, and Gerard is enchanted by the faint lisp Jon has, nothing more than a slight hint of one every so often, but it's there. "Um. I guess he wanted Ryan to be happy. So, when he found out that – that Ryan is what he is, that he likes boys, he sent off for someone to make him happy. He got me." Jon looks down at his feet and Gerard suddenly notices that Jon's wearing flip flops, old-school flip flops that few people wear anymore. 

"What was he like?" Gerard reaches out and lets his fingers brush gently across Jon's arm. "What can you tell me about him?" 

"He was always nice to me," Jon says slowly. "A little cautious. But he – sometimes he'd be drunk and he'd say things he probably didn't mean. I don't think he – he wasn't satisfied with the way Ryan turned out. And he knew that was wrong. He blamed himself, but I." Jon suddenly stops and looks Gerard straight in the eye. "Everything else I knew about him was from Ryan, or Spencer or Brendon. There's nothing more I can tell you." 

Gerard has his doubts, but he accepts the fact that Jon is done talking, and takes his leave of him. 

 

  
After checking with Jon, Gerard goes into the computer terminal and palms it on, waiting as the screens light up. He looks through the web files for what he's looking for, and finds out the basic details. 

George Hammond Ross was an alcoholic who'd gone to numerous therapies and rehabs without success. Gerard privately thinks that Vega was perhaps the worst place in the world to try sobriety in, so he isn't sure how much of that was environment or just Ross's lack of will power. 

The fact that Ross had been in the military before retiring to Vega took away the second theory, and Gerard was forced to revise his original thoughts. There surely was a _reason_ for Ross's habits – perhaps the lack of a wife (the records showed that his wife had died less than a year after Ryan was born) or maybe just the stress of caring for Ryan – 

But that doesn't make sense either, because the local hospital has records of Ross being in and out of their care for years leading up to his death, even after Ryan was old enough to take care of himself _and_ his father. 

Gerard rests his head in his hands and heaves a sigh. 

 

**Jersey**

"What was Elena like?" Pete asked, his head propped on a hand. He widened his dark eyes at Gerard, batting long eyelashes. Gerard stared at him blankly. Pete sighed and straightened up, putting his hands in his lap. "What was she like, Gerard?" 

"She was an artist," Gerard said after a moment. "She was brilliant." 

Pete raised his eyebrows. "And?" 

And Gerard found himself spilling out everything about Elena he'd loved and hated, her tendency to see right inside him and be able to tell him what he wanted before he'd figured it out, her beautiful smile and laugh, the way she loved him and Mikey with all her heart. As he spoke, he pressed a hand to his stomach, trying to breathe evenly, trying to keep the tears back. 

"She saved my life," he told Pete quietly. "I was almost dead a year ago. Alcohol and I – we do not go together." He ducked his head and sighed. "She made me realize that I needed to follow my dreams. I was drowning them in liquor." He looked up at Pete, who was watching him expressionlessly. "She made me feel loved." 

Pete reached out and touched Gerard's hand. "You'll be all right," he promised, voice soft. "I know you will. You're strong." 

"I hope you're right," Gerard murmured, and when Pete pulled his hand away, Gerard's hand tingled from the loss of contact. 

 

**Vega**

"Ryan doesn't know," Gerard hears Jon say suddenly, and Gerard jumps a little. He collects himself and turns to look at Jon, who's leaning against the door to the room. 

"Doesn't know what?" he asks, propping his chin on one fist. 

"He doesn't know. About - about me." Jon scrubs a hand over his stubbly chin. "That I...that I'm supposed to be his. He thinks I'm - he thinks I just decided to move here after a bad break-up. I didn't tell him the truth. Neither did Mr. Ross. It - it was going to - I was supposed to make him fall in love with me. So that it seemed like it was all his idea." 

"Is there anything else?" Gerard asks gently, not wanting to scare him off. 

Jon's hands flutter, as though he's thinking harder. "I - I was supposed to make Ryan fall in love with me. I wasn't - I ended up falling in love with him. It's hard - it's hard not to." 

Gerard thinks about Ryan's slender hands and delicate features and thinks of Frank with a sharp pang. 

"I can see that," he says. 

 

  
Gerard's first stop is the hospital. The nurse he talks to is a pretty blonde nurse named Keltie; she had cared for Mr. Ross in his last days. When he asks about Mr. Ross, she frowns and leans against the doorframe. 

"He was very sweet," she says slowly. "One of the kindest men I've ever met. At least to me. He could be temperamental, though. He meant well." She shrugs. "He was very sad. That was the main thing I always thought about him. He missed his wife greatly." Keltie touches his arm lightly. "I'll come to the Speaking. I've always wanted to see one." 

"Thank you," Gerard says sincerely. He turns to go, but she calls him back. 

"Oh, and watch out for his son, please?" Keltie smiles shyly. "He's a nice boy, but I'm afraid he's very depressed. He might need some guidance." 

"Thanks for letting me know," Gerard tells her. "I'll look after him." 

 

  
He spends a week going around the neighborhood, talking to the neighbors. All of them have stories about Mr. Ross, about his depression and loneliness after his wife died, about his attempts to understand Ryan. Gerard makes sure to thank every single one of them. He goes through all of Mr. Ross's papers, trying to link together the accounts he got. He finds some answers, pieces together part of the story. 

And from there, all that's left is to interview those who were closest to him. 

 

Jon drops Gerard off at Ryan's house, and Gerard waits for a moment to gather himself before he knocks on the door. Ryan opens it and his eyes widen, apparently surprised by Gerard's presence. 

"Can I help you?" he asks slowly, not opening the door fully.

"I need to talk to you," Gerard explains. "And I would like to just look through your father's things. I need to see things for myself, to be able to get a coherent picture of your father." 

"Oh," Ryan says, and he opens the door wider. Gerard comes in and is immediately struck by the smell of flowers. It's almost as though the Garden of Eden has taken root inside the house. Ryan doesn't seem to notice, though, and he walks through the vegetation as though everything is normal. 

To his surprise, Brendon is sitting at a table inside, going over some papers. Gerard looks at Ryan for cues, and is stunned at the emotion behind Ryan's eyes as he looks at Brendon. It's probably a good thing that Jon didn't try so hard to make Ryan fall in love with him, because it's blatantly obvious - to Gerard, at least - that Ryan's heart belongs completely to Brendon. 

"Bren, Gerard's here to look over some of Dad's stuff." Ryan glances over at Gerard, and the suddenly lack of emotion behind his eyes strikes him hard. "Brendon was Dad's nurse. He kinda took care of both of us."

"You need someone to look after you," Brendon says dryly, standing up and stretching. There's nothing behind his eyes but affection, pure and simple, not the full emotion of _love_ that Gerard had seen in Ryan. "He forgets to feed himself," he tells Gerard. 

"Only when I'm working," Ryan retorts, but he's blushing a little. 

"Hey," a voice calls, "I found some more pa-" Spencer comes out of one of the rooms and freezes when he sees Gerard. "Oh. Hello." 

Gerard waves awkwardly. "Hi." 

"He's here to interview us," Brendon explains. There's a flash of something in his eyes when he looks at Spencer, and Spencer's eyes darken when he looks back. Gerard feels his stomach clench in sympathy for Ryan. Brendon smiles at Gerard. "You want to start with me?" 

 

  
Brendon has an incredible amount of energy and for the first half of the interview (What did Brendon do? What were his duties towards Mr. Ross?), he fidgets constantly, but when Gerard asks Brendon what he thinks the most important thing to know about Mr. Ross is, he stills. He tilts his head up, thinking, and Gerard abruptly realizes what it is that Spencer and Ryan find so attractive. 

"Mr. Ross…really loved Ryan," he says slowly. "Ryan was the only thing he was living for. But – I think Ryan broke his heart, a little. Did you read _Nails for Breakfast_?" Gerard nods. "It's all about his relationship with his dad, how Ryan had to take care of him for so long." Brendon shrugs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Ross did everything he could for Ryan. It just – it was never enough." 

"That's all?" Gerard presses gently. 

"He liked me," Brendon says after a moment. "He was like the father that – that I should have had, I guess. My dad…he and I don't always see eye to eye. Mr. Ross tried to help me, a lot of the time." 

"You're lucky," Gerard says quietly, "to get two dads." 

Brendon blinks at him and then slowly smiles. "Yeah," he agrees, "I guess you're right." 

 

  
Spencer's much harder to talk to. His face is a closed book, his mouth set in a thin line. He gives only short, one word answers to Gerard's questions. Finally, Gerard demands, "When did you and Brendon fall in love?" and Spencer chokes, eyes going wide. 

"What?" he manages to croak. 

"You and Brendon. When did that happen? And why?" 

"I – what." He rubs his forehead and then swears before saying, "How did you fig – I guess it doesn't matter." Spencer leans back and sighs. "Um. Well. He's _Brendon._ " 

Gerard raises his eyebrows. Spencer heaves another sigh and says, "He gives unconditional love to everyone. That's why Mr. Ross loved him. Brendon was like his second son, the one that didn't reject him. I love Ryan like a brother, but I don't know if he's capable of such a strong love. He's never been in a relationship and as far as I know he's never been in love. And that's probably because he had to care for his dad his whole life." Spencer is warming to his subject, his cheeks flushing with passion. "Mr. Ross was always regretting that, he told me so. Now Ryan's too prickly, he doesn't let anyone close." 

"That's why you ended up sleeping with Brendon?" 

Spencer glares at him. "I love Brendon," he says shortly. "It's true that I came over here a lot to be here with Ryan and it's true that he was almost never around. He didn't like to be around his dad; it made him feel guilty. And angry. 

"So there was one night where there was a thunderstorm and I stayed over here and…things happened. We don't – we don't talk about it." He sighs and rubs his face. "It was a mistake. We can't – we just can't. We're all Ryan has." 

"You love him too," Gerard says, questioningly. 

"Well, yeah," scoffs Spencer. "He's my best friend." 

 

  
Finally, Gerard is left alone in Ryan's room. It's messy, clothes lying all around the small space and cluttering it up more. Gerard is startled by the bright colors and elaborate designs of the clothes, and makes a note to find out if he is the same size as Ryan – probably not, though, since Ryan is roughly the size of Gerard's pinky.

There's a computer terminal inside his room, probably so that he can write whenever he needs to, but there are also more old-fashioned pens and notebooks in a neat line on the desk. The small, crowded bookshelf hosts a number of the histories by Demosthenes, and two books that Gerard knows very well: _The Hive Queen_ and _The Hegemon_. Every child knows of those two books; they were written by the first Speaker of the Dead, whose true identity is still unknown, but who was clearly someone with a great deal of knowledge about both the Formics and Hegemon Peter. 

They were the books that labeled Ender Wiggin as the first Xenocide, the boy-genius that killed an entire sentient species that was not hostile towards humans. Gerard hadn't read the entirety of either book until after he became a Speaker, but he had been moved almost to tears by the pure honesty and beauty of the writing. 

Gerard sits on the chair and picks up _The Hive Queen_ , flipping it open to the first page. There's a dedication in neat black script. 

_To my son, George Ryan Ross III, on the occasion of his tenth birthday._

He's staring at the writing when he hears the door shut. He looks up and sees Ryan standing at the door. For a long time, neither of them says anything. Finally, Ryan speaks in a quiet monotone. 

"I spent my whole life hating him," he says softly. "And now he's gone and I realize that he tried. He really did." Ryan moves further into the room and sits down on his bed. "He – we didn't always see eye to eye. We were too different." 

"It's not your fault," Gerard tells him, keeping his voice low. 

"But it is," Ryan insists fiercely. "I left him alone, Gerard. I – I left him." He breaks down and covers his face with his hands. After a moment, he looks up and whispers, "Help me." 

"You're broken," he tells Ryan, reaching out to cup his cheek. Ryan leans into the touch involuntarily, his eyes automatically half-closing. "I can't fix you." 

"But you can try." Ryan's wide, doe eyes are pleading, begging for a stability that Gerard can't offer. "Please." 

Gerard closes his eyes and leans forward to press their lips together. It's chaste and dry, just a brush of mouths, but Ryan lets out a shuddery sigh and half-melts into Gerard's touch. Gerard grips Ryan's arm gently, keeping him upright. He pulls away and leans his forehead against Ryan's. 

"I'm not for you," Gerard says in a half-whisper, voice breaking a little. "I'm not yours. I can't make you better." 

Ryan nods slowly, lips parted, and Gerard can't resist kissing him again on that young soft mouth. Ryan's crying a little again, and the kiss is salty with tears. When they part, Gerard rubs a thumb across Ryan's cheekbone, smearing the wetness. Ryan blinks at him, all wide eyes and despair. 

"You'll be okay," Gerard promises. "You have people who love you, people who believe in you." He lets his hand drop back to his side. "Your dad loved you, Ryan." 

Ryan snorts, but doesn't say anything, so Gerard lets it go. 

 

  
That night, Gerard pulls up _Nails for Breakfast_ on his terminal and reads it again. 

_"Dad, I can't do this anymore," he said, words bitter and heavy on his tongue. "You need to take care of yourself."_

_He stared at the glazed eyes of his father, the uncomprehending stare, and felt his stomach roil. He pressed a hand to his face and sunk to the floor, wishing that he didn't feel the obligation to stay, wishing he didn't have to._

_"Watch yourself," he whispered into the silence. "Your speech is slurred enough. You might just swallow your tongue."_

_He returned to his bedroom and sat in the darkness, staring blankly at nothing._  
  
 **Jersey**  
  
Pete had had a very specific plan: he talked to everyone who'd known Elena, and he interviewed those closer to her with careful attention. He followed everyone around for a few weeks, gathering information. Then he locked himself into a room in Ray's house and began piecing together the story of Elena's life. 

There's one night, though, one particular night that still sticks out in Gerard's mind. It was late, about two weeks after Pete's arrival, and he was walking to get some water when he heard a noise from Mikey's room. He leaned against the door and peeked through the crack. Through the thin sliver, he could see Mikey and Pete sitting on the bed, leaning their heads together. Tears were running down Mikey's face in thin rivulets. 

"I miss her," Mikey choked out, and Gerard wants to touch his face and tell him that it'll be okay. "I miss her more every day." 

Pete's voice is quiet, and Gerard can't quite hear what he's saying, but it sounds like, "It'll get better." 

Mikey pressed his hands to Pete's chest and whispered, "Please, please. Just make it not hurt." 

Pete arched forward into the touch and gripped Mikey's bony hips, pulling him forward. "I can't save you."

"You don't need to." Mikey closed his eyes and leaned towards him expectantly. Pete closed the distance between the two of them, kissing Mikey's lips. Mikey gasped and sighed before letting Pete push him back. 

Outside the door, Gerard closed his eyes and tried not to imagine them from their sounds, tried not to imagine the press and splay of Pete's tanned fingers against Mikey's white skin. He tried not to be jealous of Mikey. 

He forced himself to turn away and return to his room. 

 

 

The day that Gerard decided he wanted to be a Speaker was the day Pete delivered the Speaking for Elena. 

It was a simple ceremony, with no frills. A picture of Elena sat on a table with flowers. The guests sat on cheap chairs and blankets, spread out on the patio behind the Ways' house. All Pete did was stand up and speak. 

He told the story of Elena's life, of her hopes and her family, and her loves. He spoke in a clear monotone, with no script, only truth. Gerard sat with Mikey and his mother, spellbound. He had expected something more dramatic, but he found that he preferred this to anything showy. 

"Elena loved her grandsons more than anything," Pete said towards the end of the Speaking. "She treasured them above all else. It was her fondest wish to see them married, to see them happy." 

It was then that Gerard lost his composure, and he began to cry, clutching Mikey's hand in his. Mikey was crying too, his eyes red behind his glasses. Gerard barely heard the rest of the Speaking, but when it was done, he knew that he wanted to be able to do that. To make people's lives make sense. 

When they saw Pete off, Pete gave both of them light, lingering kisses, and squeezed Mikey's fingers. "You'll be fine," he told Gerard. He stroked Gerard's cheek lightly and whispered, "All you need to be a Speaker is to be able to speak." 

He blinked at him in surprise. Pete winked. "I know the signs." 

 

**Vega**

Gerard doesn't stand on a chair or a platform. He simply stands, hands locked behind his back, and he begins to speak. 

"George Ross was an alcoholic and a father, a war veteran and a gambler. But these labels do not define his life. 

"He loved his wife and was devastated when she died. For the first few years after her passing, he was a mess, drinking every day and leaving his son to the care of the Smith family. But one day, after a long talk with Mrs. Smith, he realized that he had a responsibility towards his son, and he entered a rehabilitation program. 

"But it was too late to win back his son's love. Six years of neglect had taken its toll and Ryan had become determined to hate his father. So no matter what George tried, Ryan would reject his efforts at reconciliation. George started drinking again, and he took his frustration out on his son, further alienating him. 

"But he saw the stress and trouble he inflicted on his son, and tried to stop. When Ryan wrote his first book, George saw just how much his son hated him and he came very close to giving up. 

"That was when George hired Brendon." Gerard licks his lips. "That was when Ryan fell in love." 

In the audience, Brendon jerks, surprised, and he turns to look at Ryan, who's wide-eyed and hurt, staring at Gerard. Gerard ignores them. 

"Ryan fell in love with Brendon, who George had hired to relieve Ryan of the stress of caring for him. But Brendon had fallen in love with Spencer and vice versa. George himself only knew that Brendon did not reciprocate Ryan's feelings, and he saw how much that hurt Ryan. He believed he finally understood the fundamental difference between himself and his son, and he sought to solve Ryan's problems by finding him a husband on the 'net. Jon Walker." 

Ryan's mouth is open and Jon is blushing furiously. 

"Jon was perfect; kind and cheerful and sweet. The only problem? Ryan was already in love, and not with Jon. And it wasn't long before Jon fell in love with Ryan, and George didn't know what to do. 

"George wanted to fix things, but his prolonged drinking had taken its toll on his health. He was slowly dying. He spent his last days in the hospital, visited by Brendon and Spencer and Jon, but only once by Ryan. 

"George wanted his son to be happy, above all else. He did everything he could, not even insisting that his son visit him because he didn't want to upset him. That, in the end, was the meaning of George Ross's life: his son." 

Gerard let the words hang in the air for a minute before he drops his head and moves away. 

 

  
After the Speaking, Gerard feels drained. He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs heavily. Mikey is there almost immediately, pressing a hand to the small of his back and supporting him. Ray claps him on the back, and they help him back to Jon's house, Frank trailing behind them. 

Gerard sits on a sofa and rubs his temples, accepting Mikey's offer of water gratefully. He and Ray are used to this; they talk about mundane topics, like what jobs they did while he was researching for the Speaking and the people they met during their stay. Frank, however, sits on a chair staring intently at Gerard. 

Gerard is feeling relaxed again when the door opens and Jon comes in, eyes wide. "What did you – why?" and he collapses next to Gerard, staring at the ceiling. "I can't believe you told everyone about – about that." 

"That's my job," Gerard says flatly. "To tell the truth." 

The door opens again, this time revealing Ryan, whose face is still stained with tears. "Gera-" He freezes when he sees Jon sitting there. "Oh." 

"Hi Ryan," Gerard says wearily. Ryan bites his lip and fidgets before rallying and straightening up. 

"Am I really such a terrible person?" he asks, voice thin and trembling. "I was horrible to him. I – he loved me." 

Gerard blinks and opens his mouth to answer, but Jon beats him to it. "You're not a terrible person, Ryan," he says softly. "Just human." 

Ryan blinks at him, eyes wide and child-like in his pale face. "But. I never." He bites his lip again and before Gerard can process what's happening, Jon is up and off the couch, cupping Ryan's face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together. Gerard exchanges looks with Mikey and they stand up together, Ray and Frank following belatedly. They retreat to one of the bedrooms, where Mikey and Gerard sit on the bed. 

Frank looks at Gerard and asks, "Are they all like that?" 

Gerard jumps, surprised. "What?" 

"All the Speakings," Frank clarifies. "Are they all so – emotional?" 

"For the most part," Gerard says. "Sometimes a person lived very well and had nothing to hide. Most people have more to hide than Mr. Ross, so sometimes it's much worse." Frank looks a little shaken, and Gerard belatedly remembers that Frank has never _been_ to a Speaking before. 

"I don't know how you do it," says Frank in a soft voice. "I don't think I could." 

Ray pats Frank's back and Mikey puts an arm around Gerard's shoulders. "You did good, Gee," he whispers. "Grandma would be proud of you." 

Gerard squeezes his eyes tightly shut and nods, reaching for Mikey's free hand. 

 

  
When it comes time for them to depart a week later, all four young men accompany them to the hangar. They're linked at the hands this time, no separation between them. 

"I want to be a Speaker," Ryan declares firmly, standing next to Jon, their hands clasped tightly together. Spencer holds his other hand, looking protective. 

Gerard nods. He had expected this. "It's easy. All you need is a ship and some people to help you out, and you're ready to go." 

Ryan smiles slowly, nervously, but it's a real, heartbreakingly beautiful smile. He reaches out with his hand and catches Gerard's fingers. "Hey. I never said thank you." He half-shrugs. "I – it's just, you helped me understand.You gave him _meaning._ " 

"It's my job," Gerard tries to say, but Jon interrupts him. 

"Just say you're welcome, Gerard," he says, a funny little smile twisting the corners of his mouth. 

"You're welcome," Gerard says, and he squeezes Ryan's hand before letting him go and getting on the ship with the others. "Until we meet again."

Ryan waves, silent tears running down his face. Jon pulls him close, Spencer and Brendon crowding in from the other side, and they wave while the hatch closes. Gerard watches them until he can't see them anymore and then he collapses against the wall. He stares at the blank white wall, feeling his heart seize up in his chest and his breath comes in sharp gusts. 

Frank pads over and sits next to him. "Is something up?" 

Gerard shakes his head. "It's just – sometimes, I wish I had something like that. Love, you know?" 

Frank looks at him sort of funny and says, "You will." 

**Part Two  
** **York**

They go not because they receive a request but because Gerard needs a break. They send a message to let the landing crew know they're coming, and when they land, a woman named Victoria is waiting for them. 

"Here on vacation?" she asks with a smile. "I'm Victoria. I was sent by the planet officials to accommodate your stay." There's a computer jewel in her left ear; it glints in the harsh lights of the hangar. She presses a hand to her ear and listens for a minute. "There's a hotel not too far from here that is extremely affordable, and there are several guides free to help you around the planet." At their surprised expressions, she grins and adds, "We make it a point to welcome and accommodate all Speakers." 

"Thank you," Gerard says after a moment. He glances at the others, who shrug back. He squares his shoulders and says, "We'll take a guide." 

 

  
Their guide shows up at their hotel an hour after they settle in. He's tall, loud, and a little offbeat. He swaggers into the lobby and waves. 

"Hi!" he says when he meets them. "I'm Gabe Saporta! Where are you guys from?" 

"Jersey," they all say in unison and Frank adds, "by way of Chicago." 

"Awesome! I'm from Urugay, by way of Jersey." He holds out a fist. They all stare at it in confusion before Mikey cautiously lifts his own fist and taps their knuckles together. Gabe beams. "So what do you guys want to see?" 

"Music," Mikey says immediately. Ray and Frank nod fervently in agreement. Gerard shrugs and then nods. Gabe grins widely and pumps his fist. 

"Awesome!" he crows. "I know _just_ the place." 

 

  
Gabe's place turns out to be a little club called The Sounds, run by a woman from Trondheim named Maja. She's little and blonde and feisty, grinning ferally when she's sees Gabe. Gerard is a little frightened of her. 

Gabe seems to know everyone at the club. Gerard feels more than a little uncomfortable with the number of people around, but he tries to push his phobias down, smiling with difficulty when Gabe glances at him. Over the noise of the club, Gabe shouts to them that the band on stage has an average age of twenty. 

"They're called The Cab!" he shouts. "Pretty good, right?" Gerard nods appreciatively. 

Victoria is there too; apparently she's Gabe's wife. They kiss hello and link hands, talking as quietly as they can, heads tilted towards each other, apparently unaware of everyone around them. Ray wanders over to the sound booth and starts talking to one of the engineers. 

Mikey's just listening to the music, bobbing his head in time, looking happier than he has in a long time. Gerard watches him, smiling slightly. They stand with Frank towards the back for a while until a girl with a lot of eyeliner and a sharp smile asks Mikey to dance. Mikey shrugs and takes her hand. Gerard lifts his eyebrows at Frank, and feels a small burst of happiness in his chest when Frank grins back. 

"You wanna go outside?" Frank half-shouts. Gerard nods and they fight their way back out of the club. 

The street outside is fairly lively, people wandering the streets. There's a couple of buskers on the corner, playing guitar and singing in gentle harmony. A small crowd is around them, listening. Frank looks over at them and smiles faintly. 

"I used to play," he says abruptly. "Back when I lived on Jersey. I played guitar." He laughs, high and sharp. "Hurt myself a lot." 

Gerard looks at him, at the dark fall of Frank's hair, the glint of the ring in his lip, his tattooed hands shoved in his pockets. Frank scuffs the ground with his foot and Gerard is suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of fondness. 

"Yeah," he says eventually. "Mikey used to play. Bass." Gerard shrugs and laughs self-deprecatingly. "I tried playing guitar, but I sucked. Ray, though; Ray is good. Really fucking good." 

Frank looks up, smiling. "We could start a fucking band." 

Gerard smiles back dumbly and then blushes, looking down. Across the street, the buskers stand and pack up before heading towards the club. Gerard and Frank move aside to let them pass. 

"How long have you been Speaking?" Frank asks after a long pause. Gerard has to think for a minute. 

"About two years my time. Relatively, much longer." Gerard looks down, eyes growing a little wet. "Long enough that all my friends and family on Jersey have grown old and died." 

When he chances a look up, Frank looks stricken. "Gerard," he says, touching Gerard's hand gently, "I -" 

Whatever he's trying to say is lost in the rush of noise when the door to the club opens and Mikey says, "You guys, you gotta see this." 

 

"I'm Gabe Saporta!" Gabe shouts into the mic, "and this gorgeous lady on keytar is my wife Victoria!"

The crowd bursts into loud, hysterical cheers. The two buskers from the street get up on stage, slinging new instruments on. A small drummer settles himself at the drum set and they all look at Gabe.

"On drums is Nasty Nate! And joining us on guitar and bass are Ryland and Alex of Ivy League!" The club shouts excitedly. Frank and Gerard fight their way to the bar where a woman with bright red lipstick and a name tag that reads 'Lyn-Z' is tending bar. 

"Does he do this a lot?" Frank shouts, pointing at Gabe. Lyn-Z grins and shouts back, "Only when he gets bored." 

On stage, Gabe yells, "So I want all of you to shake your asses, especially those boys from Jersey." Gerard and Frank look at each other in surprise, and then the music starts. 

"Get out there!" Lyn-Z orders, making a shooing gesture. She grins widely, encouragingly. Frank shrugs and tugs Gerard out onto the floor with him. 

Frank's hazel eyes are shiny in the club lights, the palm of his hand a little damp and cool against Gerard's overheated skin. He shivers despite the heat of the bodies around him and he jumps when a surge of the crowd pushes Frank into him. 

Frank's body is very warm, his breath warmer still, and Gerard feels his entire body flush. He closes his eyes and lets his hands curl around the small of Frank's back. He breathes in the sweet smell of Frank's sweat and skin.

Frank stiffens and Gerard's eyes fly open, worried that he did something wrong. Frank is staring up at him; he licks his lips and then rises to his tiptoes before pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of Gerard's mouth. 

Gerard clutches at Frank's shirt and kisses back, warmth coursing through him as Frank presses closer. Frank's hand worms its way under Gerard's shirt to flatten against his stomach. Gerard groans and shakes, fingers tightening in the material of Frank's shirt. Gerard hasn't been touched, _really_ touched, in a very long time and he misses it, misses the feeling of being loved. 

Suddenly, they're jostled apart and Frank accidentally bites Gerard's lip. They stare at each other for a moment, Gerard's hand going to his lip. Frank opens his mouth as if to speak, changes his mind, and bolts. 

Gerard pulls his hand away from his mouth and in the dim flashing lights of the club, the red slickness of his blood glistens against his skin. He feels a little light-headed. 

Mikey appears a minute later, the girl from earlier in tow. "Gerard!" he shouts. "This is Alicia!" 

"Hi," Gerard says, just loudly enough to be heard. Alicia nods, smiling. 

"We're going to get married," Mikey declares earnestly, a goofy smile on his face. Alicia grins doofily back at him and Gerard's heart clenches painfully. 

"Congratulations," he tells them. 

"Hey, so have you seen Frank?" Mikey asks. 

"No," Gerard tells him. 

"I thought he was with you." 

"Apparently not," Gerard says, and walks away, leaving Mikey stunned in his wake. 

 

Three days into their vacation and Gerard's itching with boredom. He's not used to having nothing to do – in space, time mostly runs together, and he always has things to do around the ship, Mikey and Ray and Frank to talk to. But Mikey's off with Alicia, going on trips around the nearby cities, Ray's picked up a few guitar gigs, and Gerard's not totally sure what Frank's doing, but he bets that Frank is probably playing some gigs too. 

They'd agreed to stay for at least a month, and he doesn't want to cut the vacation short for everyone else. It wouldn't be fair to them. So Gerard tries to find ways of entertaining himself; he ends up taking one of Gabe's suggestions and goes to a different museum every day. 

It's on his fourth day of museum hopping that he finds Tom Conrad's exhibit. It's a single white washed room cover in giant prints. 

Tom Conrad takes photographs, even though many people feel that the medium is outdated. Conrad has a way of capturing a moment in time so Gerard feels like he's there. He finds himself transfixed before the photographs, eyes tracing the lovingly framed portraits, the desolate landscapes, the quiet still-lifes. 

By the time Gerard leaves the museum, it's late and he has barely enough time to get to the nearest art store before it closes. He doesn't hesitate as he buys a drawing pad and a set of markers. It's the first time he's even thought about art in years, but his fingers itch to put pen to paper once more. 

He goes back to the museum the next day, finds his favorite picture – a shadowy couple under a street light – and sits down, pad balanced on his lap. 

He loses himself in the art, focusing on light and color rather than the soft tread of feet or the quiet noises of the other visitors. He finally looks up when the soft click of a camera shutter catches his attention and he turns to see a young man with golden hair and a nose ring lowering an old-fashioned black camera. 

"Hi," the guy says, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, it's just - I had to take the shot." 

Gerard nods. "Okay." 

The guy blinks, standing awkwardly before he says, "Oh! Sorry, hi. I'm Tom Conrad. Mike over there told me that there was an artist here drawing my stuff." He indicates a thin, dark-haired docent in the corner who lifts his hand in greeting. 

"Sorry," Gerard says instinctively, reaching for his pad and pens. "I'll go –" 

"No, wait." Tom grabs his arm and smiles. "I think it's cool when people do drawings of my pictures. And you're good. Really good." 

"Thank you." Still puzzled about what Tom is doing there, Gerard doesn't say anything more. He blinks up at Tom, who looks as though he feels extremely awkward. 

They stare at each other blankly for a moment and then Tom says, "So, you wanna go grab some lunch with me? I promise I don't bite." He smiles reassuringly. 

Gerard abruptly realizes that yeah, he's pretty hungry. He nods and says, "Yeah, sure." 

 

  
They got to a little deli run by a couple of skinny guys apparently named Sisky and Butcher, unlikely as that seems. Tom says hello to them, giving them high-fives before grabbing a table next to the window. Gerard sits and waits for Tom to say something. 

"So you're an artist," Tom says after a long beat of silence. 

Gerard shrugs and absently picks at one of the paper napkins. "Not really. I haven't really painted or drawn in a long time. Today was the first time I've tried since…since my grandma died." He meets Tom's eyes and is briefly mesmerized by how blue they are. "Um." He gathers his thoughts. "I'm a Speaker now." 

Tom's eyebrows lift, but he nods, a thoughtful look on his face. "My friend Bill is a Speaker. He's doing a Speaking in Brooklyn right now. His friend Travis just lost his cousin." He tilts his head and studies Gerard intently. Gerard tries not to fidget. "Why are you here? Not for a Speaking." 

"No. I'm taking a break," he explains wryly. "I need one." 

"It's a hard life," agrees Tom thoughtfully. "I wish I could offer you something to relax you, butI'm afraid that you won't be able to get any alcohol here. Butcher and Sisky won't give you any. Not while you're with me, anyway." Tom laughs bitterly and scrubs a hand across his jaw. "They're a little overprotective of me." 

Gerard blinks at him. "What do you mean by that?" 

Tom bites his lip and then says, "I'm a recovering alcoholic." He raises his eyebrows at Gerard. "Still want to hang out with me?" 

"I used to be an alcoholic too," Gerard says, "so it would be pretty hypocritical of me to criticize you for that." 

Tom throws his head back and laughs. 

 

  
"Being a Speaker is kind of like being an artist," Gerard explains over lunch. He's not really sure what he's eating, but it tastes good, whatever it is. He's sure it's some dish unique to the planet and he probably should be paying attention, but it's the first time he's really had the time to talk to someone with an artistic mind in several years. "You have to stay back, observe. Watch people interact. But it's a lot different because you still have to talk to them. You're capturing a life rather than a moment." 

Tom shakes his head, lifting a drink to his lips. "I don't think I could ever do something like that. I'm not very good with words." 

Gerard swallows his food and says, "What you do is enough. You capture _life_ , capture the emotions of a moment." 

Tom smiles, flushing slightly, and ducks his head. "I guess." 

Gerard rolls his eyes and smiles back. 

 

  
Tom takes him to a park with the most beautiful gardens Gerard has ever seen. Gerard picks a park bench and sits, sketching, while Tom wanders around photographing the flowers, the pond, the insects, and occasionally Gerard himself. Gerard, for his part, sketches out a picture of Tom crouching to focus on a small yellow flower that Gerard doesn't know the name of. When he asks Tom what it's called, he says, "It's a yellow flowering plant." 

"I don't know why I expected you to give me a real answer," Gerard remarks, tilting his head up to the sky. 

"Yeah, me neither." Tom clicks a picture and smiles. 

By the time the sun starts to go down, Gerard's notebook is a quarter-filled and Tom has gone through an entire roll of film. He takes one final shot of Gerard with the sunset in the background and then he sits next to Gerard as the sun dips below the horizon and the streets of Manhattan light up. 

"It's beautiful here. Thank you for bringing me," Gerard says softly. Tom smiles at him, teeth flashing white in the scant light, and then he leans forward and kisses Gerard, kisses the birthmark just below his eye. Tom leans back and sighs heavily. 

"You seem really sad," Tom says regretfully. "I wish I could help." 

"It's okay," Gerard tells him. "This day helped." He touches the spot where Tom had kissed him and says, "That was enough." 

Tom grins and says, "I was afraid that would fuck us up. But you get me, don't you?" 

"I knew what you meant by it," Gerard confirms. Tom's smile only grows brighter. 

 

  
Tom becomes Gerard's almost constant companion. It's refreshing to have someone who understands when Gerard has to stop and sketch something that he sees, when he sees a moment that he has to capture. They talk about random things, whatever comes to mind. They don't talk about their pasts though, just about the future, or about faith and loyalty, family and friendship. 

On the third day, Tom frames a shot of a passing couple and asks, "Do you believe in true love?" 

Gerard looks up from his sketch pad and blinks at him. "I guess." He tilts his head and says, "My last Speaking, on Vega, I met this guy. He was a mail-order husband. He fell in love with the boy he was meant for and waited for him even though Ryan was already in love. Waited until Ryan saw what he was missing. Jon is either extremely fortunate or it was meant to be. I mean, he traveled from Chicago to Vega only to fall in love with the person he was sent to. He could have hated Ryan or just not have been attracted to him." 

"Jon?" Tom says with a frown. "Jon Walker? Short, dark hair, likes sandals and cats?" 

"Sounds about right." Gerard raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You know him?" 

"My ex was the one who got him into the mail-order husband thing." Tom smiles slightly and says, "Bill, the Speaker. His new boyfriend runs the program." 

"Small galaxies," Gerard quips and Tom laughs, reaching out to squeeze Gerard's shoulder. He drops to sit next to him on the grass, crossing his legs easily. 

"So things worked out for Jon?" he asks quietly, and Gerard reads into the tone, hears the concern and affection and hope.   
"He's in love," Gerard tells him with a fond smile. "Happily so. Last time I saw them, they were preparing to travel. Ryan became a Speaker, you see." 

"Good," murmurs Tom, and he lies back on the grass and throws an arm across his eyes. "Have _you_ ever been in love?" 

"Once or twice." Gerard looks at his hands and tries not to think about Frank's lips, soft and wet under his. "You know. Sometimes it's hard to tell, really." 

"What was it like?" 

Gerard looks up at the sun, squinting. "The first time," he says, "I fell in love with a Speaker who only had eyes for my brother. I think it was only because he could understand us. I thought – maybe he could fix me." Gerard shrugs and picks at the grass. "But maybe it wasn't really love. It was more like – fascination. Infatuation." 

Tom waits a few minutes and then he says, "And the second time?" 

Gerard laughs bitterly. "The second time was on Chicago and it was a total fucking train wreck. And there was nothing either of us could do about it." 

"I'm sorry," Tom says, propping himself up on his forearms. "Are you – are you okay about it?" 

Gerard shakes his head dismissively. "No harm, anymore. And it got us our engineer, so." He picks at the blade of grass in his hand and then inquires, "And you? Have you ever been in love?" 

"Yes," Tom says simply. "I left Chicago for Bill, after Jon left. I left the place where I grew up for him. I left my _family._ After we split, I wanted to leave. I almost left, after I got sober. But then I ended up staying because –" He laughs and shakes his head. "I stayed despite everything because I met someone I loved more than anything. Someone too young for me. Some who's too good for me." 

"You deserve love," Gerard tells him firmly. "Don't let yourself believe otherwise." 

Tom's lips twist bitterly, but he nods. 

 

  
Mikey is the one that tells him about Frank's gig. "He's playing with this band called Pencey Prep, they're not bad," he tells Gerard. Alicia's got a hand hooked into the belt loops of Mikey's pants, a wicked smile on her face. "You should come." 

"Yeah," Alicia chimes in, "you gotta see your buddy play, he's fucking crazy." 

Gerard invites Tom along, only to find out that Tom is going anyway. "My friend Bill, the Speaker," he explains. "He's in a band. They're playing that night. I used to be in it too – now I just go out and support them." 

"Why aren't you in it anymore?" Gerard wants to ask, but Tom's face is closed off and Gerard thinks he can guess anyway. Alcohol destroyed Gerard's dreams of music; it didn't seem out of the realm of possibility that it could have done the same to Tom. 

It turns out that Pencey Prep is opening. They're at The Sounds again, Gabe apparently having connections with members of both bands, which is how he convinces Maja to let them play there. Pencey is way more hardcore than The Cab or Gabe's motley crew, but they're not bad. In fact, they're pretty fucking good. And when Gerard watches Frank perform, he realizes what Frank had meant when he'd said that he used to "hurt himself a lot". 

"That's your friend?" Tom shouts, pointing to where Frank's thrashing. Gerard nods resignedly. "He's insane!" 

"I know!" he shouts back. "I have to admit, I've never seen him like _this_ before!" 

When Frank comes off stage, he's soaked in sweat and grinning maniacally. Gerard waves at him enthusiastically and Frank waves back, but when he spots Tom sitting next to Gerard, his smile falters. It's back a moment later, almost before Gerard can blink, and he almost thinks he imagined it. 

"Hi!" Frank shouts over the music of the next band. "I'm Frank!" 

"Tom." They shake hands, and Gerard sees Tom wince from the force Frank's grip. Gerard glares at Frank, who immediately lets go. 

"Sorry," mutters Frank insincerely. "I'm gonna go get a drink." He turns away and stomps off towards the bar. 

Tom opens his mouth to speak but he's suddenly accosted by a sweet-looking boy that Gerard recognizes at the piano player from The Cab. He kisses Tom gently and loops an arm around his waist, nuzzling Tom's shoulder fondly. 

"Gerard," Tom says, grinning like crazy, "this is Alex Marshall. My boyfriend." 

"Hi," Gerard half-shouts. "You're a lucky guy. And you have good taste." 

"Thanks," Alex responds, blushing a little. "I know." He presses his face to Tom's temple; the soft expression on Tom's face makes Gerard's chest ache in a good way. 

On stage, a thin guy with longish brown hair takes the mic and says, "Hi, we're The Academy." Gerard recognizes most of the members from around York – Mike from the museum, Tom's friends Butcher and Sisky – and he grins when the front man continues, "Our good friend Tom Conrad is here tonight, for once, so we're dedicating our set to him." 

"That's Bill," Tom shouts, and Gerard watches as Bill effortlessly wins the crowd over. He can see what kind of loyalty this man would inspire, that would bring Tom from Chicago to York for sheer love. Aside from Bill's sheer beauty and the gorgeous richness of his voice, there's a kind of magnetic pull that he exudes. By the end of the first song, Gerard's willing to bet that half the crowd would take a bullet for Bill, and he thinks maybe he wants to talk to this Speaker. 

 

  
After the show, Tom takes Gerard back stage with Alex in tow, and calls, "Hey Bill, there's someone you should meet." 

"Hi," Bill says happily, turning to look at them. Then he exclaims, "Marshall!" and gives Alex a huge hug. "You need to put some meat on your bones, Jamia will go on a rampage if you don't." 

"You're one to talk," Alex remarks dryly, pinching Bill's waist, laughing when Bill squeals and twists away. "You weigh, what, ten kilos?" 

"That's such a lie," Bill sniffs indignantly. "I weigh at least fifteen. _And_ Jamia has already made me more lasagna than I can possibly eat _ever._ Even Butcher had to admit defeat." 

"It's true," the tattooed (and shirtless) drummer confirms, nodding. The other band members are cracking up in the background. "She takes after her mother." 

"Jamia manages both of their bands," Tom explains in a whisper. "She's very mothering and occasionally very scary." 

Bill's attention shifts back to Tom and Gerard after a few more minutes of good-natured ribbing with Alex. "But this is who you wanted me to meet?" Bill smiles disarmingly at Gerard and offers a long hand. "I'm William Beckett." 

"Gerard Way." They shake hands and Tom explains, "Gerard's a Speaker. And he doesn't drink alcohol either." 

"Really?" Bill hooks an arm through Gerard's and says, "Well, then come have a fruit juice with me, Gerard Way. We'll talk about important things, rather than the worthless garbage these degenerates speak of." 

They sit in the quietest corner they can find and trade stories companionably. It's the first time Gerard's had a chance to talk to another Speaker since leaving Jersey, and Bill has stories about all the Speakers he's met, including Pete, who he'd known in Chicago. 

"Crazy dude," he remarks dryly. "He does a lot of stupid shit, you know. And he's totally blind, sometimes." 

Gerard laughs in agreement and tells the story of how he met Pete. From there, Bill presses Gerard to tell him how Jon's doing and what it's like to travel for every job. 

"I don't travel much," Bill says regretfully. "Travis wanted to stay put, so I stayed with him. And York is huge. I get a lot of work." He grins and says, "And, well. I like it here." 

"Traveling all the time is hard," Gerard agrees. "You can't get attached to anyone. By the time I'd see them again, if ever, they'd be older, maybe even dead." 

Bill shakes his head as if in admiration, or possibly in pity and says, "Man, I could never do that." 

They talk for about an hour before Mikey and Alicia find him and drag him away. Alicia has her free hand tucked into Mikey's back pocket, and Mikey's arm is around her waist. Gerard hasn't seen Mikey look so happy since Elena's death, and he finds it hard to begrudge Alicia Mikey's affection. He bids farewell to Bill and allows them to take him back to the hotel. 

Mikey crashes at Alicia's apartment, so Gerard has the room to himself. Frank and Ray have already returned and there's no light shining from under their door. Gerard decides to take advantage of his relative solitude. He kicks off his shoes and turns on the computer terminal, letting it play quiet music as he strips off his clothes. One of the bad things about being planet-bound is the general social expectation of cleanliness; in space, he's allowed to go for weeks without showering. 

He takes the quickest shower he possibly can and wraps a towel around his waist when he goes back into the room. He flicks a strand of hair out of eyes and sees Frank sitting on his bed. 

"Fuck!" Gerard almost drops his towel in surprise. He clutches at it protectively, scowling. "Frank." 

"Sorry," Frank mutters petulantly. "Just – I wanted to talk to you." 

"About what?" Gerard edges towards his bags and crouches down to grab a shirt and underwear. "Couldn't it wait?" 

"Are – are you." Frank makes an irritated noise. "Fucking _look_ at me." 

Gerard exaggeratedly turns his head and widens his eyes at Frank. "Yes?" 

"I think we should leave," Frank says bluntly, expression mulish. 

"Why?" demands Gerard, yanking on his clothes and throwing the towel to the side. "It hasn't been a month yet." 

"We've been here long enough," Frank insists, crossing his arms. 

"Is this because –" Gerard cuts himself short. "Never mind. If you really want to leave, _you_ can tell Mikey and Ray." 

Frank stares at him for a long moment and then storms out. Gerard stares at him, wondering what the fuck just happened. 

 

They decided to leave in three days. Alicia asks if she can join them for a while. Gerard shrugs and says as long as everyone else is okay with it, he is too. 

The first day, Gerard and Tom go to a museum and Gerard says, "Hey, where's Alex?" 

Tom jumps and says, "Well, I wasn't sure if I should bring him." 

"Hey, no, I like him." Gerard half-smiles. "It won't make me feel bad, I promise." 

"Well, okay," Tom says skeptically. "I'll bring him with me tomorrow." 

They go to the park again the next day and Gerard sits under a wide tree with Alex while Tom wanders around photographing random things, coming back every few minutes to snap a picture of Alex, who smiles up at him indulgently. 

Gerard sketches them together, careful graphite lines outlining their forms together. Alex asks to see it and Gerard hands it over, watching anxiously for his reaction. 

Alex stares at the sketch for a long time, biting at his lip. When he finally speaks, his voice is a little thick. "You're really good." 

"Thanks." Gerard nods at the sketch and tells him, "You can keep it." 

Alex nods and carefully tears the page from the pad. "Thank you." 

Tom is off photographing a dog walker and her many dogs, laughing as one of them, a tiny beagle, jumps up to lick him. Light catches on Tom's hair, making it almost glow gold. Gerard's pen is automatically moving before he can even think about it, roughly sketching out Tom's figure. 

"He was so broken when we met," Alex says suddenly. Gerard turns to look at him and is startled to see Alex's eyes shiny with tears. "He hadn't photographed anything in months. He – his band – told me that he'd always drunk, but when he and Bill split, things got worse. And after the thing with the band, he. He wasn't good for anyone. Even after he got sober. He's always been kind of – lonely." Alex touches Gerard's arm. "I don't know what you did, but he's happier now. You talked to him or something and now." He gestures at Tom. "He's happy. So thank you." 

"I didn't do anything," Gerard says quietly. 

"You can believe that," Alex says, "or you can admit that you made a difference in someone's life." 

 

  
Tom and Alex come with Gerard to the hangar to see him off. Victoria and Gabe greet them with fondness, and then tell the hangar officials that all of the crew is there. Frank looks up when he hears the announcement over the PA system ( _"Prepare for take off."_ ). When he sees Tom, his mouth twists, but then he sees Alex and his expression flickers. Gerard frowns but is distracted by Tom taking his hand. 

"Safe journey," he says, and he releases his hold on Alex to engulf Gerard in a giant hug. Gerard breathes deeply, trying not to regret leaving too much. He steps back after a long moment and offers a hand to Alex. Alex laughs and goes straight in for a hug. 

"Thanks for everything," he tells them both once Alex releases him. He nods at Victoria and Gabe, who smile in return. "I'm glad to have met you." 

"Here." Tom fumbles around in his pockets and produces a computer chip. He presses it into Gerard's hand and curls his fingers around the hard edges. "I compiled this for you." 

"Thank you," Gerard rasps, squeezing his fingers around the chip. He clears his throat. "Thank you," he repeats. "I hope we meet again." 

Tom clasps his arm and smiles weakly before moving away, arm twining around Alex's waist. Gerard nods to them, and follows Mikey onto the 'ship. 

Once they take off, Gerard puts the chip into one of the computer terminals and lets the computer read the data. A window pops up and Gerard leans forward. 

Tom has compiled all of his photographs onto the chip for Gerard. He scrolls through them, recognizing some from the exhibit, recognizing the people in others. Towards the end of the collection are the pictures from the days he spent with Gerard; photos of the park, of Gerard sketching. A couple of Alex, a couple from Frank's show, of Frank bending backwards on stage, screaming into a mic. Gerard stares at these a little too long; he hadn't even noticed Tom taking them. 

The last picture is of Gerard and Alex sitting under the tree in the park. There's a soft light on their faces and Gerard sees the love in the framing. The picture somehow manages to convey the emotion in Alex's eyes, and the answering feeling in Gerard's own bent head. 

Mikey comes out of the cockpit and hooks a chin over Gerard's shoulder. "Who's that?" 

"Alex. He's Tom's boyfriend." 

"He's pretty," Mikey says softly. 

"I guess." Gerard clicks out of the window and gently pulls away from Mikey. "Mikey. Do – you and Alicia. Do you love each other?" 

Mikey's face softens and he smiles. "Yeah." 

Gerard takes a deep breath, heart pounding in his chest. "If you guys want to settle down," he says carefully, "I'd be okay with that." 

"Really?" Mikey's face is incandescent. "You'd be all right on your own?" 

"It's more important that you're happy, Mikey," Gerard says. Mikey catches Gerard's hand in his and squeezes, a funny little smile on his face. 

"You should really think about yourself once in a while, Gee." Gerard opens his mouth to speak and Mikey holds up a hand. "I'm not saying that we'll stay. I just don't want you to be alone." 

"I won't be," Gerard tells him. "I have Ray and Frank." 

"I know." Mikey smiles, brighter this time. "They'll take care of you." 

They smile at each other and Gerard's hand tightens around Mikey's for a moment. He lets go after a minute and turns back towards the console. 

"Well," he says, "let's pick a place for you to settle down on. 

 

**Interlude  
** **Jersey  
**   
**  
** They pick Jersey, unsurprisingly. Alicia and Mikey find a house in Jersey City, which has cleaned up since they were last there. It's been two years their time, but on Jersey more than three generations have lived and died in their absence. Mikey and Gerard visit their parents' graves together and cry into each other's shoulders. At Elena's grave, they leave a bouquet of flowers. Gerard lets his fingers a little over the carved letters of her name before he makes himself move away. 

Mikey and Alicia marry in a simple, nondenominational ceremony at the city hall. They say plain vows, the basic, "I'll care for you all your life" and "I promise to love you" phrases, and then Mikey takes Alicia's hand. He signs the wedding certificate neatly and moves to let her sign next to him. Then they kiss, lingering and full of love. 

Gerard looks over at Ray, who's grinning proudly and then at Frank; and Frank's looking at him, his eyes dark and desperate. Gerard swallows with difficulty and looks away. 

 

  
They stay with Mikey and Alicia for a few weeks, helping them get settled, and then Alicia insists that they leave so that, "we can have our fucking honeymoon already." But she kisses Gerard on the cheek fondly and comes with Mikey to see them off. Gerard orders them to send a message if they need anything, anything at all, and Mikey promises that he'll keep in touch. 

Then they take off and for the first time in a long time, Gerard is alone.

 **Part Three  
**   
Gerard watches the ground fall away, watches as the figures of Tyson and Nick grow smaller and smaller, and when he can no longer see them, he pulls himself away and collapses in his bunk to sleep. 

He's woken much later by Ray's voice, Ray's hand on his shoulder. "Gee. Gee." 

He rolls over and cracks his eyes open, squinting in the harsh light of the cabin. "Wha'?" 

"We got a request. They asked for you by name," Ray whispers, eyes wide and sympathetic. "From Chicago." 

Gerard's breath catches. "Bert?" 

"Bert," Ray confirms. 

 

 **Chicago  
** **Before  
**   
They were met by a pretty blonde girl and a boy with red hair who introduced themselves as Greta and Bob. Gerard took their hands in his, observing their red-rimmed eyes and lost expressions. He squeezed gently, trying for reassuring. 

"I'm Gerard, the Speaker," he said gently. "Eileen was your sister?" 

"Mine," Bob confirmed, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for coming." 

"It's not a problem." Gerard released them and asked, "Do you know of a place where we can stay?" 

 

  
The hotel Greta recommended was run by a young man named Bert McCracken. He grinned when they came in, his eyes lingering on Gerard a little longer than was perhaps strictly necessary. Gerard flushed at the attention and hurried after Mikey when a man named Quinn appeared to lead them to the room the three of them would be sharing. 

"You're here for Eileen?" Quinn inquired casually as he unlocked the room. Ray went in first, grabbing Gerard's bags. Gerard's fingers flexed unconsciously and he nodded in answer to Quinn's question. Quinn sighed. "She was a sweet girl. Such a shame that had to happen to her." 

"What?" Gerard blinked at him, startled. "What happened to her?' 

"They didn't tell you?" Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "Eileen was murdered." 

 

  
When Gerard woke up the next day, Ray and Mikey were already gone, probably picking up quick jobs in the city. Gerard showered quickly, not wanting to scare people with the accumulated smell from weeks of space travel, and decided to ask around a bit before talking to the family. 

He closed the door behind him and looked up to see a small, heavily tattooed guy staring at him with interest. Gerard blinked and then nodded, offering a smile. The guy's face lit up with an answering grin and he lifted his hand in greeting. Bemused, Gerard waved back and then back away. 

Downstairs at the concierge desk, Bert appeared to be playing some computer game, but when he saw Gerard, he straightened up and smiled. 

"Hey," he said, "I don't think I ever caught your name." 

"I'm Gerard." He paused and then asked, "Who's the little guy with the tattoos?" 

"That's Frank," Bert said cheerfully. "Our maintenance guy. Why, did he scare you?" 

"Startled me a bit," Gerard admitted, smiling. He tried to think of a way to delicately broach the subject, but after a minute he gave up and just asked, "Did you know Eileen?" 

"Eileen Morris?" Bert crossed his arms and leaned back thoughtfully. "Yeah, she worked here sometimes. She was incredibly sweet. Very hard worker." 

"Do you know what happened to her?" 

Bert shrugged. "As much as anyone. About three months ago, they found her floating in the lily pond at the botanical gardens, a bullet through her head." Bert shook his head. "They found the gun buried in the rose garden. Fucking weird, who uses a gun anymore? And they never even found out who did it." 

Gerard sighed and rubbed his face. "This is worse than I thought," he said before returning upstairs to access the computer terminal. 

 

  
The police reports were not much more help, but Gerard still took quick notes on things like when she was found, by whom. He had the feeling that Greta and Bob were expecting him to find out who'd killed Eileen, and he wasn't entirely sure that he'd be able. 

He decided that he'd just suck it up and talk to Greta and Bob. 

 

  
Bob's house was bright and sunny, and there were pictures lining the wall, mostly of Bob with Greta and two boys that Gerard didn't recognize, but a fair number of a pretty red-headed girl who bore a striking resemblance to Bob. He guessed that she was Eileen. 

"That's from her eighteenth birthday," Bob said from behind him, making Gerard jump. "Sorry, did I scare you?" 

"No, I'm fine." Gerard inclined his head towards the sofa. "Can I talk to you for a bit? About Eileen?" 

"Sure," Bob said, trying for a smile and falling more than a little short. Gerard sighed and took his arm, leading him to the cushy armchair positioned in a place where the sun hit it straight on. Bob sat, his hands trembling a little as he curled his fingers around the armrests. 

"Please tell me a little bit about Eileen," Gerard said, settling in the chair across from Bob's. 

Bob breathed deeply for a minute, his breaths shaky and unsure, and then he managed to say, "Eileen was perfect." 

When no other information seemed forthcoming, Gerard pressed, "What was she like? Who were her friends?" 

Bob paused, appearing to gather his thoughts, and then he began, "I was four when Eileen was born. She was quiet, even as a baby. And I loved her, wanted to protect her." He looked at Gerard, his jaw set defensively. "She was my _sister._ " 

"I understand," Gerard said gently. "I have a little brother." 

Bob nodded, his face very serious. "Then you understand. You know what it's like to want to protect them so much. To love them _so much._ " He shook his head and pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes. "She was sweet and wonderful and perfect. I don't know why anyone would want to kill her." His voice cracked on a sob and Gerard didn't say anything for a moment, letting Bob collect himself. 

When Bob seemed to be in control of himself once more, Gerard repeated, making his voice as soothing as he could, "Who were Eileen's friends? Who did she spend time with?" 

Bob sniffed and said thoughtfully, "She was close to Bert – the guy who owns the hotel you're staying at. She'd work there a lot, usually maid work. She talked a lot about one of the other employees – Jepha." Bob was relaxing a little, loosening his death grip on the couch's armrest. "I never met him, though. And she was close to Greta. And Darren and Chris." 

"Darren and Chris?" 

"Our neighbors. She helped them get together." Bob smiled shakily. "She loved doing that." 

"She sounds like she was a great girl," Gerard remarked sadly. "I wish I could have known her. You have my deepest sympathies." 

"Thank you." Bob stood and scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Do you want to see her room? I haven't touched anything since – since it happened." 

Gerard nodded and followed Bob down the hall into a small, dark room. Bob palmed the lights on and then left Gerard alone. The room was messy, the floor strewn with clothes and papers. Gerard picked his way across the floor to the computer terminal, which he turned on. He waited until it started up and then began picking through the computer. 

In a folder labeled, 'life', he found pictures of Eileen with Greta, with the two boys in Bob's pictures (Darren and Chris?), Eileen with Bert and Quinn, and a gorgeous tattooed man – not Frank, though. Gerard supposed this must be the mysterious Jepha. 

Gerard opened up the calendar and clicked back to the month when she was killed. On the day before she was killed, the to-do list read, 'Meet you-know-who'. Two weeks earlier, it said, 'Doctor's appointment'. Gerard bit his lip and killed the program. 

 

  
His next stop was the neighbors. Chris and Darren welcomed Gerard in with offers of tea and cookies. He sat across from Chris at the table while Darren made the tea. There was something incredibly intimate in the way they yielded certain duties to each other, and when they looked at each other, there was pure love and affection in their gazes. Gerard was almost sick with jealousy. 

He tamped down on it and made himself drink the tea without trembling from envy. The tea was good, sweet and rich. 

"Thank you for this," he said, curling his hands around the cup. 

Chris and Darren exchanged another one of those private glances. "It's for Eileen," Chris said after a minute. "We'd do anything for her." 

Gerard nodded and took a sip of tea. After a moment, he said, "Bob told me she paired the two of you up?" 

Darren and Chris burst into identical grins. "Yes," Darren confirmed. "She did." 

"We were classmates in school," Chris explained, smiling brightly. "Same year as Greta, a year above Eileen. We _hated_ each other." 

"You were such an asshole slacker," Darren pointed out, but the soft look in his eyes belied the harsh words. 

"You were a fucking teacher's pet," Chris shot back despite the fact that his smile had only grown wider. He looked over at Gerard and shrugged, eyebrows quirking. "I guess Eileen saw potential." 

"She told _me_ that our enmity was clearly repressed sexual tension," Darren remarked dryly, eliciting a chuckle from Chris. Gerard felt himself offer an answering smile, charmed. 

"Are you the only ones she put together?" Gerard asked, curious now. 

"Hardly," Darren snorted. "It was her favorite pastime." 

"Mason and Trace –" 

"Ashlee and Hayley," Darren agreed. 

"Amy and that boy from two years above us," Chris added. "Can't remember his name for the life of me, though." 

"She told me before – before, that she was working on a new couple." Darren tilted his head thoughtfully. "I don't think she ever said who it was, though. She liked to keep things secret until they happened." 

"Sneaky girl," Chris said fondly. 

"What about Eileen herself?" inquired Gerard. "Did she have anyone? A lover, a boyfriend?" 

Chris and Darren exchanged another look, this one more serious. They had some sort of wordless conversation, and then Chris sighed heavily. 

"She told us this in confidence," he said quietly. "She didn't want Bob to know. She didn't want him to worry about her." 

Gerard's heart pounded in his chest, sudden adrenaline running through him. "What was it?" 

"She was pregnant," Darren told him, voice low. "She was one month in when she was killed." 

"Do you know who the father was?" Gerard asked, his eyes widening as the full implication of that hit him. 

"No," Chris said regretfully. "They didn't even mention that she was pregnant in the police report. The police told us that they didn't want to upset Bob and Greta more than they had to." 

Gerard digested this for a minute, thoughts running through his head at a mile a minute. "Well, this was certainly enlightening." He stood, pushing his chair back. "If you think of anything else that could help, please let me know." 

"Of course," Darren nodded, standing as well. "I'll see you out." 

 

  
Gerard returned to the hotel, deep in thought. He had just come through the door when he heard Bert's voice calling, "Gerard, you look way too sad." 

Gerard looked up and raised his eyebrows as Bert came out from behind the desk. "Is that so surprising?" 

"Not really, but I don't think you should ever be sad." Bert's eyes were soft and warm as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Gerard's ear. "Come, let me take you around. I'll show you the sights." 

"Can you leave the hotel?" 

"I own the place," Bert said dismissively. "Of course I can." 

 

Bert took Gerard downtown, where he claimed a kick-ass band was playing. "Their lead singer, man, she's got some pipes on her." 

The band was indeed very good and the lead singer was a tiny red-head with a seriously impressive voice. She introduced herself as Hayley, and Gerard decided to talk to her after the show and see if maybe she was _the_ Hayley. 

Bert drank, but didn't press when Gerard declined and instead talked to him about why the sound in the club sucked and how they really needed a decent sound guy. Gerard let him talk, liking the way that Bert seemed totally unconcerned about whether or not Gerard was listening or indeed if he made sense. 

"You're totally not listening to me," Bert accused after his second drink. Gerard must have looked pretty guilty, because he laughed and said, "It's okay, man, I tend to talk a lot." 

Gerard shrugged and looked back at the stage. "I'm listening to the music, you know?." 

"Good. Hayley's fucking amazing, am I right?" He didn't wait for a reply; instead he barreled on. "She and Eileen were good friends, you know." Bert's tone was abruptly serious again, his eyes wide and earnest. "You should talk to her." 

"I was going to," Gerard told him, and Bert beamed at him. Gerard's heart flopped in his chest and he sucked in quick breath. 

 

  
When the band (Paramore, Gerard noted absently) got offstage, Hayley made a beeline for a pretty blonde girl by the bar. They linked hands and leaned in to talk to each other and Gerard immediately felt awkward, not wanting to interrupt their moment. 

"Go," Bert insisted, giving him a little shove. "It's now or never" Gerard threw a mock glare at him before marching over to the girls. He cleared his throat as politely as he could and waited. 

"Hi," he said when they looked up. "I'm Gerard Way. I'm going to be Speaking for Eileen Morris." 

Recognition lit up the girls' faces and Hayley gestured at herself and then at the blonde girl. "I'm Hayley, that's Ashlee." 

"You wanna talk outside?" Ashlee suggested, raising her eyebrows. 

"That'd probably be a good idea," Gerard agreed and let Hayley lead the way. 

The air was a little nippy outside and Gerard rubbed his arms absently. "So. Darren and Chris mentioned you guys." 

Ashlee rolled her eyes as Hayley burst out laughing. "I bet they did," she agreed, giggling. "They _love_ gossiping." 

"Eileen match-made a lot?" 

"Her favorite thing to do," Ashlee said dryly. "She locked us in a closet together our last year of school." 

"Crazy girl," Hayley agreed fondly. "Kept trying to pair Greta and Bob up, but for some reason it didn't take." 

"She wanted everyone else to be happy," explained Ashlee, looking a little sad. "She was that kind of person." 

"She kept hinting, a few months before it happened, that she had a boyfriend," Hayley remarked, looking at Ashlee. "She wouldn't tell us who, though." 

"I don't think she told anyone," Ashlee said. "Maybe Greta, but probably only her." 

"Thanks," Gerard said after a few more minutes of conversation revealed that they didn't know much more than that. "I appreciate it." 

"I hope you find out who did it," Ashlee said venomously. "Whoever it was deserves to die." 

Hayley bit her lip worriedly and squeezed Ashlee's hand. Ashlee looked at her and something in Hayley's face must have calmed her, because she slowly relaxed. Hayley smiled apologetically at Gerard, who just shrugged to say, _no big._

"We're going to go back inside," Hayley told him. "Ashlee's sister is having her bachelorette party tonight." 

"Have fun," Gerard said, lifting his hand in farewell. Hayley smiled at him before Ashlee pulled her inside. Gerard leaned against the wall, staring up at the darkening sky. A moment later, the door to the club opened again and Bert leaned next to him. 

"Learn anything new?" he asked. 

"A few things," Gerard said. He tilted his head up to the sky and breathed deeply, feeling lost within himself. 

 

  
When Gerard went upstairs to sleep, he ran into Frank. Frank almost fell over, giggling. "Oops!" 

"Oh. Hi." Gerard ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the little engineer. 

"Hi!" Frank grinned brightly and stuck out a hand. "I'm Frank Iero." 

"Gerard Way," he said, bemusedly accepting the hand for a shake. 

"Nice to meet you, Gerard Way," Frank said, rocking back on his heels and beaming a little. "If you're ever in need of an engineer, just ask me. You know. For anything. My job here is pretty much a temporary position." 

"I'll keep that in mind." Gerard smiled at him, somewhat bemused, and went inside his room. 

 

  
Greta owned a little house a few streets away from Bob's, where she kept a neat garden full of flowers native to the planet. It was a riot of color against the stark whiteness of her house She was weeding when Gerard showed up, on her knees in the damp grass, her face streaked with dirt. When she heard him, she looked up and smiled. "Hi, Gerard." 

"Hello, Greta. Can you spare a few minutes?" 

"Sure." She stood, trying to brush the dirt off her hands to little success. "I hope you don't mind waiting a little bit while I wash off." 

"Take your time." Greta nodded and beckoned to him. Gerard followed her inside, charmed by the sunny, open atmosphere of her home. There were pictures of her friends all over the walls. Eileen featured heavily in the neatly framed photos. Greta disappeared into the bathroom, telling him to take a seat anywhere. 

Gerard sat at the kitchen table, listening to the soft rush of water as Greta washed her hands and face. She emerged from the bathroom not long later, her hair let loose from its severe bun, tumbling down her back in golden curls. She smiled pleasantly at Gerard and took the seat across from him, folding her hands together. 

"What can I do for you?" she inquired politely, her body language tense and closed off. 

"Tell me about Eileen." Gerard observed carefully as Greta's face smoothed out in thought. 

"She was beautiful," Greta commented after a long moment. "And sweet. She was my best friend. I loved her dearly." 

"So she would confide in you?" Gerard leaned forward, eyes intent on Greta's face. "Did she tell you about a boyfriend or lover?" 

Greta shrugged. "She was dating Jepha, from the hotel. She talked about him all the time." There was a hint of bitterness in Greta's voice now. _  
_   
"Hmm." Gerard contemplated Greta for a long moment and then asked carefully, "Why didn't you and Bob ever want to get together?" 

"What?" Greta's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "What are you talking about?" 

"Hayley told me that Eileen was trying to pair you and Bob up." He raised his eyebrows quizzically. "I guess you didn't know?" 

Greta snorted, rolling her eyes. "Of course not. She never told anyone about her plans. But that's so Eileen. She was completely blind to the things in front of her." 

"What do you mean?" 

Greta made a face, looking supremely irritated. "She was so eager to make people fall in love regardless of whether or not they were already in love." 

"So you were already in love?" Gerard blinked innocently at her as Greta's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. 

"Of course I was," she hissed. "Who do you _think_ I was in love with?" 

Gerard stared at her for a moment and then understanding dawned. "Eileen," he said, voice hushed. 

"Eileen," Greta confirmed. "I _loved_ her. And she had to go and – fall in love with that piece of shit heartbreaker! That –" She sighed heavily and leaned back. "The entire time they were dating, she did nothing but tell me about how he made her unhappy." Greta clenched her hands. "I would have loved her _unconditionally_. But she never saw me as anything more than a friend." 

"What do you mean, she was unhappy? Jepha made Eileen unhappy?" 

"He has mood swings. Sometimes he made her ridiculously happy, sometimes he made her very upset and she'd come crying to me. But she could never end things with him. Every time she tried, she'd find some reason not to – he gave her flower or he wrote her a song. When she found out she was pregnant, she was so happy. When she told him, he told her to get rid of it." Greta looked disgusted, her mouth twisting angrily. "I hate him." 

"I can see that." Gerard looked at Greta thoughtfully. "Do you know where Jepha lives?" 

"Bert could tell you," Greta says. "They're friends, I think. He works for Bert, anyway." 

"All right, thank you." Gerard stood and waved goodbye. Greta nodded, waving him off, while she stared down at the smooth surface of her table. 

 

  
Bert was pleased to be able to help Gerard out. "Yeah, sure, Jepha." He clicked on his computer and stared at the screen for a moment. "Um, okay. You know what, I'll take you to where he lives. He lives in a pretty sketchy part of town." 

"Thank you," Gerard said, and he blushed when Bert grabbed his hand. "Um." 

"Let me be nice to you, Gerard," Bert ordered. "You need someone to spoil you." 

"Okay," agreed Gerard. 

"Really?" Bert's face lit up with the force of his smile. Gerard smiled back. 

"Really." 

 

Jepha did indeed live in a rather run-down area. Gerard clutched at Bert's hand perhaps a little harder than necessary, but Bert only squeezed his hand reassuringly and whispered, "Don't worry." 

Bert rang the door bell and hollered Jepha's name. After a moment, the door was yanked open. Jepha was a little shorter than Gerard, but heavily tattooed. A tiny dog scurried up behind him, yipping excitedly. 

"Zelda, hush," Jepha said absently. He raised his eyebrows at Bert. "Hey. Who's this?" 

"This is Gerard Way," Bert announced, bizarrely seeming a little proud. "He's a Speaker for the Dead." 

"Oh." Jepha scratched his head. "For Eileen?" 

Gerard nodded mutely. Bert gave him a little push and Gerard stumbled forward a few steps. "Um. Can I speak to you about Eileen?" 

Jepha shrugged eloquently and opened the door wider. Bert pushed Gerard in and Jepha closed the door behind them, shutting out the sunlight. 

Jepha's place was dark and somewhat musty. Gerard sneezed and rubbed his face, and then almost fell flat on his face, tripping over something unseen on the floor. 

"Sorry," Jepha's disembodied voice said, and the lights abruptly came on. "I was sleeping. I've been a little ill." 

"I'm just going to hang out here," Bert said loudly. "You two go talk." 

Jepha gestured down the hall. "So yeah. Wanna talk in my room?" 

"I guess." Hesitantly, Gerard followed Jepha through the dark hall into a small, darker room. Jepha turned the lights on and sat on his bed. 

"So what did you want to ask about Eileen?" He looked at Gerard carefully. "Is this because we were seeing each other?" 

"Yes," Gerard said. "And because it was it secret." 

Jepha shrugged. "I don't know why, man. She just told me she wanted to keep it quiet. I agreed to it." 

"What did you think of Eileen?" Gerard picked some clothes off of the only chair in the room and sat gingerly. He looked down and saw the corner of a condom wrapper sticking out from the pile of clothes. He felt his stomach roil. 

"What is there to say? She was beautiful, man. And smart, and funny. She was great." Jepha's mouth twisted in a strange smile. "I loved her, you know." 

"So were you the father of her child?" 

Some unknown emotion flickered in Jepha's eyes and he asked, "What?" 

"Eileen. She was pregnant when she died." 

"She was?" Jepha seemed authentically puzzled, but Gerard remained skeptical. "She didn't say anything. I can't imagine the baby being anyone else's." 

Gerard stared at Jepha closely for a long moment, then said, "Thank you, I think that will be all." 

 

  
"You have any theories?" Bert asked as they walked back to the hotel. 

"A few," Gerard admitted. 

Bert squeezed Gerard's hand sympathetically and then said, "Let's go out for dinner, all right?" 

They went to a quiet, nice little restaurant owned by a tall, skinny, tattooed young man and his boyfriend, a short, slightly round boy. Bert took a corner table with Gerard and the owners dropped by to talk to them. 

"Hey, are you the Speaker?" the skinny one asked with a vague smile. "Hayley mentioned she'd met you last night." 

"That's me," Gerard nodded. "Gerard Way. Nice to meet you." 

"I'm Trace Cyrus." He gestured to the other boy. "This is Mason." 

"Oh!" Gerard smiled, recognition dawning. "Chris and Darren mentioned you. They said that Eileen paired you up?" 

Mason and Trace exchanged smiles and Mason nodded. "Yeah. She was the sweetest girl ever." 

"I guess she was well-loved," Gerard commented. Trace let out a braying laugh. 

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one." Trace waved his hand eloquently. "Everyone fucking loved Eileen. She was everyone's best friend, everyone's little sister. The girl everyone wanted to be. Fuck, _I_ wanted to be her sometimes." 

Mason rolled his eyes and grabbed Trace's arm. "We should leave them, come on Trace. Let them have their privacy." 

Bert laughed as Mason dragged Trace away. "They're always like that. Trace tries to be as provocative as he can." 

"Mason must have a difficult time of it then," Gerard remarked. Bert laughed and grabbed Gerard's hand, squeezing lightly. 

They talked about everything and nothing, about Gerard's past, about Bert's past. Gerard talked about his grandma and why he was a Speaker. Bert talked about he came to own the hotel and what he loves about it. Now, Gerard can't precisely remember what they spoke about. He only remembers that he was happy. 

 

  
Gerard spent two more weeks talking to people, re-interviewing some, snooping into the histories and computers of others, and he eventually thought he had the answers. So he told Bob and Greta that he was ready and he sat in their house, shivering with nerves. Mikey, fresh from a day job, rubbed Gerard's shoulders gently. 

They gathered in the gardens, where Eileen was killed, under a large, spreading tree. Gerard had never had so many people attend a Speaking before and certainly never done a Speaking like this, where so much would be revealed. He swallowed down bile and stood, breathing deeply. 

"I am Speaker for Eileen Morris," he said quietly, letting his voice float to all those in attendance. "Eileen Morris was a beloved sister and friend, a girl who all proclaimed to be perfect. Her favorite pastime was pairing people up. She wanted to see her friends happy above all else. And she often did improve her friends' lives and they loved her for it. 

"But Eileen was blind to those who loved her, failing to recognize that her best friend had fallen in love with her – or perhaps she was simply unwilling to recognize that the love Greta held for her was not platonic. She willfully tangled in the lives of others, regardless of their wishes or requests. It was lucky that so many of these interferences had positive consequences. 

"And Eileen had secrets. She was close to Bert, who owned the hotel near to where she lived with her brother. She worked there as a maid. It was there that she met Jepha Howard, a friend and employee of Bert's. Jepha was clever and sweet and handsome; how could she resist him? So she fell in love. As for Jepha – he was more than happy to accept the attentions of a pretty young girl. 

"Jepha had a reputation, though, for breaking hearts. And to keep her brother from worrying, Eileen concealed her dalliance from all but her closest friend. Even when Jepha made her cry, made her hate him, she truly loved him and was unwilling to let him go. 

"When she discovered that she was pregnant, she was delighted. She told Jepha excitedly, hoping that it would please him, hoping that maybe they would marry. Instead, he told her to get rid of it. Heartbroken, she returned to the hotel and related her story to Bert. She told him that there was only one way for her to get out. 

"She asked him to kill her." 

The crowd was completely silent, their eyes fixed upon Gerard's face. He drew a shuddering breath and continued, "Bert didn't want to do it. He begged her to consider her options. But she was resolute. She wanted out of this world. He gave in and met her at the agreed time, gun in hand so as to not arouse her suspicion. He tried one last time to convince her not to take this way out. She refused. 

"He told her he wouldn't do it and moved to destroy the gun. But she grabbed it from his hand, put the gun to her head, and pulled the trigger. 

"Eileen was dead. Bert didn't know what to do. So he did the only thing he could; he removed the fingerprints and buried the gun beneath a tree, hoping that it wouldn't be found. He didn't want to kill Eileen, he didn't want her to die. But Eileen was determined. Had anyone looked closely into her files, they would have found a note bidding farewell to her brother and to Greta, her only regret that she would be killing the child along with herself." 

Gerard bowed his head, his voice growing choked as he continued. "Eileen lived a short, beautiful life. It should not have ended the way it did." 

The crowd was silent for a long moment and then they burst into talking. Bert sat next to Quinn, his eyes fixed on Gerard, looking betrayed. Gerard looked at him and tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. He looked down and started to walk away. 

Greta grabbed his arm and said, "Gerard, wait. How did you find all that out?" 

"People have a tendency to keep diaries, to record important things that happen to them," he said, his heart heavy. "All it took was some snooping." 

"But she wanted it," Greta said, eyes wide and disbelieving. "She _wanted_ this." 

"Yes. Her diary made that quite clear." Gerard gently pried Greta's hand from his arm. "If you'll please excuse me, I have the feeling that I won't be welcome here for long." 

 

  
At the hotel, he found that Ray and Mikey had gotten there first, packing up their things in record time. He was ready to go when Frank appeared out of nowhere. 

"You're leaving?" he asked in surprise. "Was the Speaking today?" 

"Yes," Gerard said shortly. 

"Bert just sent me a really weird message." Frank indicated the computer jewel in his ear, as if to explain how he'd gotten the message. "He told me that I was out of a job. He's closing the hotel." 

"I'm not surprised," Gerard remarked dryly. 

Frank raised his eyebrows but didn't ask. "Then do you need an engineer?" 

Gerard opened his mouth, but Ray cut in with, "Actually, yes." 

Frank beamed. "Awesome. I'm coming with you, if that's all right." 

"Okay," Gerard said after a pause. 

 

  
They got to the hangar quickly and they were boarding the plane when Gerard heard Bert shouting his name. He turned to see Bert running towards him. 

"Bert," he said quietly. Bert looked like crap, his eyes red and his hair more tangled than usual. "Bert, I'm so sorry." 

Bert waved his apology away. "You're a Speaker. It's what you do." He stepped forward and cupped Gerard's face in his. "I wish you didn't have to go." 

"I don't think I'll be welcome here anymore." 

"I doubt I will, either. But I need to live here. If only to have a constant reminder of the things I've done wrong." Bert sighed, his breath gusting against Gerard's mouth. "Can I kiss you?" 

Gerard answered by closing the distance between their mouths. Bert opened his mouth to Gerard's and Gerard's fingers tightened in Bert's hair. It was all too short a time before Ray was shouting to Gerard that they had to go. 

"I love you," Gerard whispered to Bert, and then he turned and ran into the 'ship. 

"I love you!" Bert shouted back as the door shut. Gerard pressed his fingers to the window and watched as Bert dwindled away in the distance. When he couldn't see him anymore, he curled in on himself and pressed his hands to his dry eyes. 

 

**Chicago  
** **Now  
**   
Quinn meets them at the hangar this time. He's much older now, well into his sixties. Gerard knows that Quinn and Bert eventually became a couple – they'd received that message one week after leaving Chicago, that having been seven years for Bert and Quinn. 

It's one of the hazards of being a Speaker. Becoming attached to someone who remains planet-bound is destined to end in heart-break. Gerard thinks he's mostly over Bert, though sometimes his heart jumps when he thinks about the way Bert used to smile at him. Frank is a good distraction in that respect. 

Quinn takes Gerard's hand and squeezes it tightly. "Thank you so much for coming." 

"Of course," Gerard says. 

 

  
When they find out he's in town, Darren and Chris show up at the hotel they're staying at (it's nowhere near the one Bert had owned – and it's much more modern) and greet Gerard enthusiastically. 

"You barely look older at all," Darren remarks enviously, pinching Gerard's cheek. 

Gerard shrugs. "Well." 

Chris elbows Darren and then smiles at Gerard. "We're glad to see you doing well. After Eileen's Speaking, we were worried that you wouldn't ever want to return here." 

"It was certainly a memorable occasion," Gerard says. "What became of everyone after I left?" 

The two of them abruptly sober and exchange a look. Chris sighs. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Greta." He stops and presses a hand to his mouth. 

"She killed herself," Darren says, matter of-fact. "Not long after you left." 

"Her note said that she wanted to be with Eileen," Chris says, fingers drumming restlessly against the table. Darren covers his hand with his. "And Bob wanted to kill Jepha, but Jepha left the day after. I think he moved to Trondheim." 

"Bob's all right, now," Darren tells Gerard. "He got married to a nice girl, had a kid they named Greta Eileen." 

"That's sweet of him," Gerard says. He feels incredibly awkward, not knowing what to say to them. "Thanks for dropping by." 

"We're glad to see you doing well. We were worried…" Chris trails off and then continues, "We were worried that you would be heart-broken." 

"Not so much anymore," Gerard says quietly. 

 

  
The hotel they're staying at is owned by a man named Brian Schechter who knows nothing about Gerard's previous Speaking experience on Chicago. He's small, tattooed, and very business-minded. Very unlike Bert. 

The maintenance guy for _this_ hotel is named Bob Bryar, and Ray has a huge crush on him. 

"I do _not_ ," Ray hisses when Gerard points this out. 

"You really kind of do," Frank agrees. A second later, he dodges Ray's swipe, shouting, "Not fair!" 

"How is it not fair?" Ray demands. 

"You have a height advantage!" 

"Just because you're the size of a _ten year old_ –" 

"You're a giant!" 

Gerard rolls his eyes and walks away, going to interview Quinn. 

 

  
The interviews go by pretty quickly, and Gerard's done within two weeks. It helps that he already knows a lot about Bert; all he needs to learn is what happened after he left. 

It's probably one of the most low-key Speakings he's ever done, too, most people knowing about the whole Eileen thing. Bert wasn't given to secrets, so the Speaking just tells people what they already know, not hiding the fact that Bert could be given to bad habits and decisions, but celebrating his virtues. Frank is one of the few who don't know about Eileen and Bert though, so after the Speaking he corners Gerard at the hotel. 

"That's what happened?" he says in disbelief. "Bert killed Eileen?" 

"Yes." Gerard tries to get away, but Frank grabs his arm. 

"He was a good person," Frank says firmly, eyes fixed on Gerard. "Right?" 

"You heard the Speaking," Gerard retorts grumpily, tugging futilely. "No one's inherently good or inherently evil." 

Frank's hand tightens around his wrist. "I knew you were in love with him," he says quietly, "but are you still in love with him?" His eyes are fixed intently on Gerard's face. 

"Why does it matter?" Gerard demands. Frank rolls his eyes and kisses him. 

It's nothing like before. This time, it's forceful and passionate, Frank's hand still fastened around Gerard's wrist. Gerard arches against him, free hand tangling in Frank's hair. 

"What?" he asks dazedly when Frank pulls away for air. Frank stares down at him, a faint smile on quirking his lips up. 

"I love you," he says simply. "You see the good in people no matter what. You're observant, you're earnest. You're beautiful." He brushes a strand of hair away from Gerard's face, and Gerard briefly remembers when Bert had done the same thing – but there's no regret in the feeling, no longing. "I've loved you for a long time now," Frank tells him. "Ever since Vega." 

"Is that why you were so weird on York? Were you jealous?" Gerard demands, eyebrows shooting up. Frank looks sheepish. 

"Maybe a little," he admits. He strokes Gerard's cheek gently, and presses their foreheads together. "It was hard not to be. I was worried about coming back here, too. I was worried that you still loved Bert." 

Gerard sighs and looks at his feet. "I'll always love him, you know." 

"I know," Frank says. "But could you find it in yourself to love me?" 

"Without even having to look very hard," Gerard promises and allows Frank to press him to the bed. 

 

 **Part Four**

Bob comes with them when the leave Chicago. Ray warns Gerard and Frank not to say a word, promising that if they do, he'll find ways of interrupting them every time they even _think_ about trying to have sex. 

Gerard takes a few more Speakings on neighboring planets, and tries not to wonder about Mikey too much, if he's happy or if things soured. When he gets to worrying, Frank presses his lips to Gerard's temple and strokes his back until Gerard relaxes and stops thinking so hard. 

They're returning from spending almost three months on Trondheim when they receive the message from Mikey. Bob takes down the message and then calls them over. 

Gerard takes the message and reads out, "Dear Gerard, Ray, and Frank, Alicia had our first son yesterday. We named him Arthur, for Gerard. We hope this message reaches you in good health and that you're all doing well. We hope you drop by to meet him; he's going to be a good kid. Promise. Love, Mikey." 

Gerard looks up when he's finished and they all look at each other. Gerard doesn't even have to say anything before Ray's adjusting their coordinates and they're heading for Jersey. 

 

 **Jersey**

When they finally arrive, it's been five years since Mikey's message, almost fifteen since they left Mikey and Alicia there. Mikey's in his thirties now, and Gerard is more than a little unnerved by the fact that his little brother is now more than ten years older than him. 

Arthur is a little scared of them at first, hiding behind Alicia's legs when they meet at the hangar. Bob hangs back, obviously feeling out of place, but Mikey introduces himself and tells Bob that he's welcome to stay with them. 

"Any friend of Gee's is a friend of mine," Mikey insists when Bob tries to protest. 

"Don't argue," Alicia tells him, voice dry. "Believe me, I've tried." 

"Stop telling lies, woman," Mikey orders, linking hands with her. Gerard smiles involuntarily at that, at the soft looks and obvious private jokes they've acquired over the years. Frank sees the look on his face and slips his hand into Gerard's, squeezing gently. Mikey raises his eyebrows at that and gives Gerard a Look. 

 

"So," Mikey says thoughtfully, closing the door to one of the spare rooms, "you and Frank." 

"Yeah," Gerard answers. 

"Finally," snorts Mikey. He sits next to Gerard, putting an arm around his shoulders, and smiles slightly. "I'm happy for you." 

"I'm happy for you too," Gerard tells him and they sit like that for a while, relearning what it's like to have a brother. 

 

They've been on Jersey for six weeks when Frank climbs into bed, straddles Gerard, and announces, "I want to settle down." 

Gerard blinks up at him, confused. "What?" 

"I want the whole nine fucking yards. I want the little house with the white picket fence and I want a fucking dog, if we can find one that won't ruin the natural ecosystem of the planet or whatever the fuck rules they have." He leans down and presses a kiss to Gerard's lips. "I want us to be an _us_ ," he whispers against Gerard's mouth. 

Gerard curls his hands around Frank's hips and pulls him closer. "Yeah, sure." He bites Frank's ear gently. "We can do that." 

"You don't mind?" Frank asks anxiously, eyes wide. "You don't mind not wandering the universe?" 

"I think, to be honest, I'd be happier if I settled somewhere." He presses a kiss to Frank's neck. "It might as well be here." Frank hums happily and squirms to lie against Gerard's chest. They lay like that for a while and then Gerard says, "Hey, tomorrow." 

"Mmm hmm?" 

"I was going to visit Elena's grave." Frank stills at the words and tilts his head up. 

"Your grandma? Are you sure?" 

Gerard curls a hand around Frank's neck and kisses him, not even dignifying the question with a response. 

When they're lying together, covers shoved down around their ankles, Frank asks quietly, "Do you think she would have liked me?" 

"She would have loved you," Gerard assures him. 

 

Elena's headstone is cracked with age, but the letters are still clear cut. Gerard slides his fingers across the inscription and some of the tension leaks out of his shoulders. Frank stands behind him and gently rubs at Gerard's shoulders. 

"She would be proud of you, Gee," Frank tells him. "I don't have to know her to know that." 

"I miss her," admits Gerard, his voice cracking a little. 

Frank kneels next to Gerard and puts his arms around him. "I know." 

 

They get it all, the house and the fence, and they even get one of the planet's versions of dogs, which are rather like the pictures Gerard has seen of Earth dogs, except that Jersey dogs have slightly different skeletal arrangements. He's not sure of the exact details, and to be honest he doesn't particularly care, so long as Frank's happy. 

It takes about three months after that for Ray to finally get the nerve to ask Bob out, and they end up being probably the most sickeningly romantic couple Gerard has ever seen. They live within walking distance of each other and Mikey, and Gerard feels more content than he has in years. 

Gerard starts drawing again, but still takes Speaking requests when people ask him to. The years pass in quiet contentment. Gerard and Frank take care of Arthur when Alicia and Mikey are busy, and they are fine with being uncles rather than fathers. They get older, and Gerard sees the first gray hairs begin in his temples, sees his brother grow older. 

And then comes the day when Alicia shows up on their doorstep, face tear stained, and says, "Mikey died last night." 

 

 **Part Five**   
**Jersey**

Alicia's inconsolable for days, and Gerard can't do much other than stare at the walls. Mikey had been _forty-six._ Too young to die. Far too young to die of a heart attack. Frank finally coaxes Gerard into putting in a call for a Speaker, and Gerard decides to request the first Speaker he ever met. Pete arrives four months later, his group still in tow. Gerard hugs Pete before he can stop himself, so relieved to see a familiar face that he forgets to be startled by the fact that Pete looks no older than he did so many years before. Pete hugs Gerard back, rubbing slow circles on Gerard's back. "Thank you for coming," Gerard says wetly, wiping tears from his face. "Of course." Pete squeezes Gerard's shoulder fondly. "I'm glad you asked me. By the way, I heard that you made quite a name for yourself in Chicago." "I guess." Gerard tries smiling at him and fails miserably. "I'm so glad you're here." Pete nods and lets Gerard press his face into his shoulder and doesn't even comment when Gerard soaks the fabric. "That's Pete?" Frank asks quietly when Pete arrives to talk to Alicia. "I thought he'd be bigger." Gerard snorts a laugh. "No. Not that you're one to talk, my pocket-sized friend." "Not pocket-sized in all ways," Frank points out with aleer, pressing his nose into Gerard's neck. "Hey. You doing all right?" Gerard breathes deeply and says, "Better." Frank sneaks his arms around his waist. "Good." Pete locks himself up with Patrick for three days after he's talked to all of them, explaining that Patrick makes his thoughts make sense. Gerard waits anxiously all seventy-two hours for Pete to be finished, to be ready. At the end of the third day, Pete comes out, his hands smeared with ink. "I'm finished," he announces. The Speaking is held in Alicia and Mikey's back yard. Light rain falls down on the guests, soaking through Gerard's clothes to his skin. Pete's speaking style hasn't changed since the last time Gerard saw him. Pete stands stock still, hands locked behind his back as he speaks. "Michael James Way was a beloved husband, father and brother. And he died too early." Gerard listens somewhat absently as Pete tells the story of Mikey's life. It's when he gets to talking about Mikey's loves that Gerard listens closely. "Mikey loved Alicia more than anyone except his brother. He worshipped the ground Gerard walked on. The hardest thing he ever had to do was leave him. He wanted Gerard to be happy above all else." Next to him, Frank takes his hand, squeezing lightly and leaning his head against Gerard's shoulder. Gerard suddenly realizes that he's crying, for the first time since Mikey died. Pete's voice continues speaking, a soft monotone in the background. "…and he loved his son dearly. If he could have had the choice, he would not have left so soon." Gerard barely hears the rest as he is overtaken by grief. He presses his face into Frank's collarbone and tries not to think too hard. Frank rubs his back and whispers quiet nonsense words in his ear. Gerard goes with Pete to see him off. He pulls Pete into an impromptu hug, and Pete lets him. Over his shoulder, he sees Patrick looking at them warily, so Gerard whispers, "Hey, so you maybe should think about Patrick." He pulls away to see Pete blinking at him in surprise. He steps back and says, "Thank you again." "Of course." He quirks his eyebrows at Gerard and turns to look at Patrick, who quickly averts his eyes. Pete looks back at Gerard for a quick moment and then says, "Until we meet again." Gerard lifts his hand in goodbye. He watches as they take off and disappear, out through the stars. That night, Frank presses Gerard into the mattress and kisses him hard, running a hand down Gerard's chest. Gerard arches up, biting lightly at Frank's lower lip and slipping his fingers under Frank's shirt. Frank fucks him on his hands and knees that night, hard and unrelenting, fingers leaving bruises on Gerard's hips. He bites the joining of Gerard's neck and shoulder when he thrusts in, and Gerard shudders with the impact. He presses back and whines deep in his throat, clutching his hands in the sheets. When Frank's hand migrates from Gerard's hip to his cock, Gerard loses himself and comes with Frank's name on his lips. "I love you," Frank whispers in Gerard's ear and then he comes hard, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of Gerard's hips. "I love you too," Gerard murmurs in the darkness, as Frank pulls out and curls up into his arms. "Until death do us part," agrees Frank. **Epilogue** Ryan steps forward, still youthful despite many years. He locks his hands behind his back and licks his lips, heart pounding in his chest. "I am Speaker for Gerard Arthur Way," he says quietly. "He was another Speaker, who sought always to tell the truth, no matter what the cost. He was my hero and my idol. And I was not the only one who worshipped him so. "He changed lives. He loved everyone unconditionally; he believed in the inherent goodness of people. He was the hero to his brother, the lover of Frank, the surrogate father to his nephew. He was beloved by all who met him." Ryan looks out and says, "He was a good man."


End file.
